Aim High
by River.R
Summary: When I died, I could feel all that I am...completely. No doubts, no auto-criticism, no fear. And I felt lighter; all I could think about was of how I could finally breathe." CHAPTER 5!
1. Prologue

"Aim High"

Prologue

(March 20th, 2009)

A/N: Plain text – character 1. **Bold – character 2**. _Italics – both characters_.

_Baby blue is all I see._ I scan the vast span before me one last time, as I force myself to focus on what I'm about to do.

**I stand on the platform, bend down and the smell of chlorine floods my nostrils as I contemplate my reflection on the static liquid.** _Blue is my favorite color!_

This is what I was born for. It sets me free. It calms me down and unleashes a daredevil, from deep within me, all at once... A rush of adrenaline swamps my whole being and I work my magic...

**I'm a statue. I don't move an inch. I still gaze at my changing mirrored image as it shapeshifts slightly. I'm still rooted but I can already taste lightness and liberation taking control of my body, just by thinking of how good it'll make me feel...**

_And I dive!__I'm a…_ bird in the sky...** fish under water!** _This is me enjoying the best feeling of all: freedom!_

**This is a daily routine at the start of my day: a good 40 laps - freestyle - in the heated water, with no one around, no interruptions… this is my 'alone time'. I stop, pull myself up and sit by the edge of the pool 'til my heart rate slows down; this is pretty much a 'to-do' before removing the straps of my Speedo swimming suit, as I make my way to the showers.**

Rolls, spins, loops, lines, hammerheads - I do them all with my eyes closed, so to speak - piece of cake, no biggy - but nose diving is what really does the kick for me! It's a thrill everytime...and I keep my eyes opened… this is when my heart skips a beat! I do it once, then again… and again… 45 minutes go by and it's 'meditation' enough for me; besides, being low on fuel, that is... So I level back my Stearman PT-17 Biplane before starting a smooth descent.

**The lights go off. There's nothing to worry about… The generator will power up in a couple minutes. **

I'm less than 100 feet from touchdown. I steady the plane aligning its nose with the fading centre line on the runway.

**I'm done. I grab the towel hanging outside the stall, wrap it around me and I stumble on my sports bag, as I exit the booth… it's laying on the floor! Weird… I'm sure I put it on the bench by the door!**

5, 4, 3, 2, 1…Touchd- Shit! That's the sound of something breaking. I lose control - the right wing scratches the pavement and the plane steers right, towards an old fuselage, in front of the hangar… That was the landing gear for sure! No brakes, no steering capability… What the…! No oil pressure, too? Great. Just great!

**I bend down to pick it up but I'm shoved back in…and hard! It wasn't an accident because, whoever it was shoved me again 'til my back hit the cold tiles. No one was supposed to be in here!**

I kill the engine but it's too late. I measure the odds of jumping off of the aircraft… I realize there's no time! I brace myself for impact...

**Four steps, a swing of a door opening, and a 'click' prior to two loud 'bang's is all I hear before the lights turn back on. The door closes behind the figure whose face I didn't have time to register. My ears are buzzing like crazy; I feel my left shoulder burning as I make my way out to the pool, and that is when an acute pain hits me… I bring my right hand over my clavicle – is this blood? **

_Next thing I know, my vision starts to blur… I desperately search for my blue Eden with unfocused eyes - it could be my last chance to get lost in it and I'm not wasting it. Found it… And I get lost, barely having enough time to engrave it into memory, before everything goes black!_


	2. Hard landing

**A/N:**** A million thank you's (hugs, kisses, roses and ferrero rocher's) to ManicFanFic for going out of her way to beta-read this…on a Saturday morning might I add, so THANK U!**

**Feedback is very much welcomed, people.**

Have a nice weekend!

**Copyright:**RR09.** Rating:** R – for language. **Disclaimer:**I do not own SON nor any of its original characters.

"Aim High"

Chapter 1 - Hard landing

(03-21-2009)

**Saturday, February 28, 2009 4:11pm **

"We'll reach the drop zone in 3 minutes…" I scream in order to make my voice heard over the roaring engine and the speeding air whistling from outside, "… so let's go over it one more time. Simon, you and Aiden will go first... Glen and I will follow. Remember: when the light on the altimeter on your wrists blinks red, then it's time to pull the cord." I pause to make sure our 'devilkins' were with me so far. "If the main chute fails to open, _don't_ panic – the reserve _will do _ its job once deployed by the A.A.D…." Aiden gives me a confused look. Ah, he forgets so easily! "… Automatic activation device – it comes into play in case of emergencies. Don't worry!" I pause again and breathe in slowly as the cold air hits my face. Simon had opened the door a few inches more. "Once near ground, keep your feet together and brace for landing. Any questions?" No one said a word. I could hear the blonde's heart pounding a mile a minute. He was having second thoughts. "If someone wants to back down, now is the time to do it..." Again no one said a thing. Aiden smirks excitedly. His friend on the other hand was turning a little...green. "Hey hey Glen, are you feeling okay?" He clearly wasn't. It was his first time jumping solo. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to..."

"I'm fine," he cuts me off. "I just get a little air sick but after..." he pauses and takes two deep breaths "There…" he smiles in reassurance "… I feel perfectly fine!" The first time he jumped, it was a tandem with Simone, a week ago. After 4 other jumps with Simone and I, the boys decided they were ready for the real thing – not that they could tell, but as their instructors, we definitely could!

Apparently this little skydiving drill was a birthday gift for both Aiden and Glen, and whoever paid for it had specifically asked for Simon and I. We're 'the best' so they're getting nothing but the best Devils out here!

"We're here guys," Kyla yells from the cockpit once the plane reaches 13000 feet. She's piloting 'The Flying Pig'. Yeah, I know... Everyone laughs at the name, but it's her plane. I can't change it! When she was a kid she thought baby pigs could fly. There would be a pink pig with angelic wings in every drawing she made. Gosh, 'Babe' - the Disney movie character - is the freaking mascot… how crazy is that!? He's cute, I admit but c'mon... That's sooooo not me! Like it or not, this is how it's been for two weekends in a row since our usual plane hit maintenance... Heavy maintenance might I add.

We're a team of five: Kyla, Me, Mitchell, Simon and Simone. Kyla is my sister... she's 22, I'm 24. The rest of our partners in crime are siblings, one year apart from one another, with Mitchell being the oldest at 25. We pretty much grew-up together…I remember them moving in when I was 4. They are my cousins, and _we_ are 'The Daredevils' NOT 'The Flying Pigs' for crying out loud! Ugh how embarrassing!!

Here I am. Preparing for my 300th jump when... "Ashley, Simon... Winds are 11 knots North West," says Kyla. "You have clearance to fly Pigs," oh God shoot me now. "Have a safe landing. Break a leg!" ahah very funny.

"Shut up, Kyla!!" I bark. Err I hate her stupid jokes… they turn out to be curses more than anything. She's a witch I tell you!

Simon and Aiden stand prone at the door. "Ready?" asks my partner.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this!"

"Go!" Both Simon and Aiden let go of the plane.

"You ready Glen?" I ask.

"I was thinking..." oh they always over think when the time comes. Nothing new about this "...that my ass is worth millions of dollars and..." "Glen! Look at me! You're one of the country's praised athletes, an Olympic gold medalist and most importantly... my idol. Do you really think I'd let you do this if I wasn't sure you were ready?" I say with the most serious expression I could manage.

"Okay, I trust you." Yes! There's nothing better than an ego boost. But now seriously: I know he can do it. I wouldn't risk someone's life over my cockiness. Never!

"I'll be right behind you," I yell.

"Next to me?" he frowns at me with pleading blue eyes.

"Next to you!" I smile reassuringly.

"Ready?" Before he can answer, I lean overboard dragging him with me by the arm.

"AahHHhhhhh..." Jesus Christ he screams like a girl. My idol screams like a freaking girl! Gheesh! I wish I didn't know that... next time I see him on TV I'll keep replaying this pathetic moment of his... these sad images are _never_ fading for me – yeah, I have a habit of recording people's most embarrassing moments to the back of my head. Shit, I'm scarred for life!

There's no way I'm joining his pathetic debut on the freefalling scene! I press 'play' on the ipod tightly secured to my utility-belt. I let go of his arm, but he wraps both hands around it in 0.2 seconds. Owww! Down boy… you're cutting off my circulation!! Errr… What a chicken!

I maneuver myself so we're eye-to-eye. I point a finger to my wrist, reminding him to look at it – it was time – the red light was flashing, meaning we'd jumped 30 seconds ago… I mouth "pull-out" as I grab the yellow toggle positioned at the bottom of the container by my lower back. It takes him a second to comprehend but he does, and I see him decelerate as the chute opens… he was now above me, his speed dropping fast from 120 mph to way less, as I keep diving head first for about 15 seconds more, doing a couple of double-flips, before finally slowing my plunge.

I enjoy pushing myself to the extreme… Skydiving is. the. bomb! I've been doing it for 5 years now. I also got my pilot's license at 18, and I don't think stressing that air acrobatics is truly a passion will ever be enough. I feel so…alive!

I'm swooping as I notice Simon's red chute near the target, whereas Aiden's couldn't be seen… he must have landed already. Yep, there he is! I see his orange parachute spread on the ground… That color blinds me - ouch – however, that's how the staff on the ground distinguishes us from the rookies – they go orange and pros go red. He missed the white circular target by 10 yards or so – not bad for a first timer!

With 200 feet remaining, I bring my steep landing approach to a halt, leveling the canopy as I now glide parallel to the ground. Dammit! I'm going too fast, and my thoughts catch up just as quickly – I pull hard on the left toggle. Landing on the corn field to my left is my best bet. Uh-oh… Something tells me this is going to hurt…

"Owww!!!" Fuck! Did I really think corn would soften the… Ugh it kind of did. I should be screaming my insides out for a broken leg, but I think it's just my ankle instead… crap… not _again_! "Ow, ow, ow, ow…Shiiiiitttttt!" and this is me cursing… I curse _a lot_ when I'm in a huge amount of pain. What did you expect, huh!? Ah, shut up, you so would if this were _your_ foot! Damn chute… damn, damn… umphhh… it's on my face! Must-get-it… argh… OFF!!!! Ufff… Finally!

I raise my head a few inches so I could remove both my helmet and goggles. Oh look, blue! Sigh. Kyla is a sucker for pink – with pigs in the mix – and I melt for blue. Funny, isn't it? Don't ask 'why'… all I know is that it swept me off my feet ever since I looked at the sky for the first time with conscious eyes. I think I was 2. Mom said it took me a while to figure out I couldn't touch it, and Uncle T. insists the reason I fly so much is to mask the fact that I can't have it. It may be true. Maybe not being able to touch it, hold it, yank a piece and shove it in my pocket, is why I can't fight the urge to get up there, be wrapped in it, consumed by it… It's peaceful. Just me and some clouds when they feel like keeping me company.

Something stands between me and Eden. What the… Oh, okay, it's just Simon. Huh? His mouth is moving… what is he saying?? What…? I realize I still have music blaring through the headphones. A bird flies in circles above our heads and I space out for a second, lost in graciousness. I can't even feel pain anymore.

"…kay?" is all I hear when Simon yanks the white plugs from my right ear.

My attention goes back to him. "What?"

"Are. You. Okay?"

"Hm yeah, nothing broken." He helps me up and I get a reminder of the rough landing when a sharp pain assaults my foot "Ow!" I almost lose my balance, but his strong arms hold me up.

"Ash! You said nothing was broken…"

"And I don't think anything is!! It's my ankle…" I whisper the last part.

"Oh, Ash… _not_ again!" Uh huh, my exact words dear cousin. "You have to stop with the stunts already!" He walks me out of the corn field. I see our military jeep approaching. "We're instructing, not putting on an acrobatic show… You know we were thinking about grounding you for a while yesterday…" Wait. What? 'We'!?

"You and who else?"

"Me," says Simone, parking in front of us. She gets out of the car. Aiden and Glen hop down from the back.

"It's her ankle," says Simon.

"You have to stop pushing it, Ash… it's not doing you any good – it's your 4th injury in 9 months!"

"Dude that was amazing!" says Aiden. "You have to teach me some of that, man!"

"Yeah, that was awesome, Ashley…" says Glen.

"Glad you enjoyed the show guys," I flash my best smile trying to ignore the excruciating pain. "You did really well, Aiden. You totally beat me. You're a natural" I high-fived him.

"Hey, what about me?" Jealous much, Glen?

"Oh, I'm sorry 'Tough Guy' I didn't get to see…" I make sure to stress the nickname; that's what everyone has been calling him ever since he brought home 3 golds and a silver from Beijing last year "… I was preoccupied trying not to break my bones, you know. But don't worry, after 2 or 3 more jumps I'll teach you how to…" "Don't even think about it!" Simone cuts in. "You're NOT jumping much less _tea-ching_ anyone, anything, anytime soon. You're grounded! _Got it_?"

"What am I? 5? You can't ground me!!"

Simon picks me up to place me on the passenger's seat. "I assure you everyone else agrees. Kyla and your mom sure do! Our Dad, too…" he says.

"I'll be fine in a couple weeks and you're _not_ grounding me" I glare at him. Everyone could see I was fuming.

"Wanna bet?" Errr Simone usually has the last word. I better shut up. Arguing won't do me any good right now, especially with 'good' clients around – it's not like we desperately need money, but we don't refuse it either.

**Saturday, February 28, 2009 4:42pm**

I sit in the control tower with my leg stretched on my uncle's lap. Simone drove us back to the hangar 5 minutes ago, and now we're here silently staring at each other while Simon's downstairs making sure the boys pack the equipment the right way.

"What happened?" Troy's holding an ice pack and applying light pressure on my swollen foot.

"Rough landing," I whisper. Simone is standing behind her father, tapping her foot as she looks straight at me.

"You need to take some time off, Ash," she says. I don't say a word… I'm trying to keep my cool. She starts to pace.

"She's right, honey. If these injuries keep up, your foot won't hold. I'm surprised you can still walk."

"I heal fast," I shrugged.

"We know, but there's so much your body can take, Ashley, you need to give it a rest," here's uncle Troy just being… well… uncle Troy - going for the smooth approach unlike _some_ people in the room!

"But…" "Shut up!" my cousin yells at me. The ice-pack slips to the floor. She startled us both!

"Maybe it's best if you go help you brother, Sweetheart." Troy knows as well as I do that a fight is about to start.

"No, Dad! We talked about this yesterday – she's taking too many risks."

"I know what I'm doing, okay!!"

"Oh really?! What was that just now, huh??" she pointed a finger to the glass window, her eyes locked with mine. "You've been pushing it to the limit, Ash! Your behavior, your judgment and, I dare to say, state of _mind_ are all questionable right now!" Simone was pretty hot-headed. She only talks like this when she's really pissed off.

"She's right, honey. I saw you out there… When did you pull the toggle? 1500 feet?" I lower my gaze. "And to make matters worse, you flipped and whooped at unsafe speed! You know the USPA is known for sending watchers posing as clients to spy on how we conduct our activities – we can all lose our licenses! You were supposed to get up there, dive with your apprentice and land safely, and not do _reckless _stunts out there!" I keep my eyes on my foot. I couldn't look him in the eye. He was right… they both were.

"You must have touched down at 20 mph, you were lucky not to have broken anything. Thank God for the corn field!" Simone throws her hands in the air. What's with her – she'd always been against having a corn field inside the perimeter. Oh, yeah, it broke my fall… I guess I should be grateful, too, huh…?

"I misjudged, okay. No one here is perfect, you've all made mistakes!" I bark back.

"But this doesn't apply to you, Ashley!" She gives 2 steps in my direction, yelling once more. "You're supposed to be the best… You used to be Ashley Davies – the best fucking Daredevil there is – and now you're some out-of-the-book extreme jumper wanna-be doing state of the art shit."

"Just because our mothers aren't around much, it doesn't mean you have to act like mine."

"You're so stubborn, Ash! I don't know why I waste my breath with you anymore."

"Fuck you!"

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that…"

"But you _did_…" I'm pushing it again, I know it, but who the hell does she think she is? "… Bitch!" I spit out.

She walks all the way to my chair – Uh-oh I know that face – I try to avoid it but *smack* she slaps me. Troy's jaw hangs open; he's as stunned as I am. I try to get back at her but *smack, smack*… My head screams every dirty word I know, but they don't come out – how can they when she's found a very efficient way to silence me. She's about to go at it for the forth time… I close my eyes tightly and twist my beautiful nose; in comiiiiinnnnnnngggggggggg… ingggg… inggg…. What the…? I shyly poke one eye out of its lid and notice Uncle T. holding her wrist back. She's breathing heavily. She's really pissed! I open the other eyelid and stare at her defiantly; Troy releases the hold he has on her, 2 seconds later – bad choice! Her palm imprints my left cheek with such force that it almost causes me to fall off the chair.

"STOP!" I yell as a single tear starts running down my burning skin. "Stop slapping me already!!!" That's it! I stand up on my good foot and hold both of her wrists down. I was hurting. My foot? It hurt. My face? It was on fire… But those weren't the reason I was crying. I was ashamed, angry… afraid. They were right!

We look each other in the eyes for what seems to be a century. She pulls her upper limbs free from my grip. I try to fight the tears, but I can't. When I think she's about to turn her back and leave, she leans in until our foreheads are touching, and dries the streams on my face with the pads of her thumbs. "I'm so sorry," we both say. "Wait. What??" we say again. Christ, we're so much alike!! It's not easy for either of us to apologize. We're too proud for that… And while you'd say 'stubborn' we'd say 'free-spirited', 'rebel' – 'fearless', 'crazy' – 'passionate'… yeah you get the picture.

"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have hit you," her voice softens.

"I deserved it, I was way outta line. You're not a…" I gulp "… you know… what I said."

"I know you didn't mean it. That's why I also know I shouldn't have. I snapped." I could see her green eyes filled with regret. "I feel I'm losing you, Ash. We're family. We're like sisters and I care for you, you know that." I bury my head in her shoulder. "Ever since that accident… I… We almost lost you. I'm _so_ sorry! It was my fault!" My head snaps back so I could look at her. How could it have been her fault?!

"No, no… stop! You're right. You are _all_ right! I've been reckless. It's just… I know that… See… I know this is no excuse, but it just makes me feel so alive!"

"Ah, so a near death experience wasn't enough for you?!! You have to feel the rush constantly? You have a death wish, huh?" Her voice raised a decibel. She wasn't expecting confirmation; she already knew the answer to that. "See what I mean…?" Simone looks at her father for a second with a 'duh' expression. "Ash…" she whispers "… you have to know when to stop. This rush it's… it's like a drug! It's addictive. We're just looking out for you."

"I know."

"We love you."

"I know."

"You used to be the straight-headed, cautious leader of the pack. I want that back. I miss you."

"I miss me too." I lean my head on her shoulder again. I turn my head to the side and see Troy observing intently. I'd forgotten he was in the room.

"I'm sorry!" she says as I feel her voice break, her body's shaking… She's crying!

I hold her face in my hands to look at her. "Hey hey… it's not your fault, okay, those were my mistakes, _not_ yours."

"It's my fault. The accident… it's my fault!" Again with this? "That day…" she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath trying to regain composure, "… I didn't get to finish what you'd asked me." I give her a skeptical look. I don't get it. She catches my confusion. "You remember asking me to do a quick check-up that day?" I nod. "I noticed some bolts were a bit loose… and it was time for an overall oil change…" shit! No… "The thing is…" her hands move from my waist to my shoulders, "… I didn't get to finish because I was too busy screwing D." Okay, too much information!

"Danielle??" Oh, wow, he speaks! Uncle T. is alive and breathing, people. "No, Dad, Drake! I'm sorry, Dad, I'm Bi… yeah, now you know. It's out in the open! I wanted to tell you but… Sorry." I knew that Drake had a major crush on her. My surprise is regarding the fact she'd cheated on her girlfriend!

The old man is as shocked as I am. I've always thought that breaking the news of you being gay was the hardest thing to do, but I have just been proven wrong. Troy is actually trying to process the sudden confession. He's always been supportive of Simone's relationships and sexual orientation. Our family is pretty open…

"I'm going to…" he clears his throat and points to the door.

"Yeah, Dad… Go get some fresh air." I can tell she wants to laugh. And so do I.

When he shuts the door behind him we look at each other and burst out laughing. After a minute, it all subsides and we get serious again.

"I need to sit down." I feel pain again. The numb feeling the ice caused was long gone.

I sit on Troy's chair and Simone takes the one I sat on minutes ago. She holds the ice pack against my foot with too much pressure "Ow…" I hiss in response.

"Sorry. Sorry for _everything_!" she says disgusted with herself. "Your image on that hospital bed really got to me, Ash. You were out for 4 days! Four uncertain freaking days! I broke up with Danielle that day because I heard a very 'inconvenient' message in her voice mail a few days before. I screwed with Drake for a month to get back at her… and as a cherry on top of the whip cream, I caught her having phone-sex, and after that she… ah never mind, it's not important. Wanna know what's sad? I didn't love her… that's why I regret that day so much, Ash: you could have died for a stupid payback to some trashy slut! If you'd died I would have never…" "Simone…" "I don't think I…" "Simone, I'm fine! I'm alive."

"For now…"

"Hey, I got it, okay. I plan on living for a long time… What will you do if you lose another Devil, huh?" I say jokingly. "That's why she left, right?"

"I guess. That's why they all did."

We used to be a team of 10… Myself, Kyla, Simone, Danielle, Mitchell, Drake, Simon, Valery, Marcus, and Ross. We'd all met in junior high and we were pretty tight… at least I thought we were. When they dropped out, Danielle said they needed… hm… what word did she use…? Ah… 'action'; apparently, the 2 months I spent healing my 2 broken ribs and a shattered leg broken in 3 places, was unbearable for them… or should I say _for her_! Now I know the real reason! The others followed suit like the bitches they were – that's what saddens me. They've formed a squadron of their own: 'The Yellow Doves' – lame name, isn't it? Ewww! I can't wait 'til we kick their ass once competition season resumes.

"Well, they've made their choice. Who cares…? They do their business and we do our own thing! Speaking of business…we started this as a family, we run it as a family and we're great at it _as _a family… There's nothing to regret. I like to believe we're where we wanna be at the moment. I don't need them… Do you?"

"Nope!" she smiled.

"Simone?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't blame you. I should have paid attention to the red marker in the cockpit." It's true. A red marker meant an aircraft wasn't ready for take-off for whatever reason. A marker was there. I just chose to ignore it. Things were just too clean in the hangar… it had been over 12 hours since I'd asked her to do a check-up the night before… I just assumed it was all good when I shouldn't have – I chose to ignore it! It's as much as my fault as it's hers. "And as good as you are at mechanics…" she's a kick ass mechanic just like her father! "… I always double-check stuff, you know how I am. Or at least how I used to be." I say that part under my breath. "I didn't!"

We keep quiet after that. She's sorry, I'm sorry… That's it. Things can only get better from here, beginning with my ankle returning to its normal size.

"Still hurts?"

"A little. But the ice helps. Thanks!"

"No problem. It's mostly just cold water now…"

"Are you two done fighting?" Troy pokes his head in with uncertainty.

"We're good, Uncle T. You can come in."

"You sure? What about an R-rating warning for TMI, next time?" Both Simone and I laugh at this.

"Oh grow-up, Dad. We already did. We're adults now."

"Oh wow, thanks for reminding me, Sweetheart… I really needed you to sort of call me ol'man just cuz you're 23!"

"You have to admit that 'ol'man' sounds way better than '_old_ man', though," I say and win a chuckle from both.

"I'm going to get some more ice cubes. Be right back." And off she goes.

"The blonde guy asked me to give you this," he handed me an electronic card. It was pitch black. What am I supposed to do with this? "The other guy said he had a great time and he'll be back for seconds. Oh and you should call him."

"Who? Aiden?"

"The other one…" "Glen?"

"The blonde, yes! I'm going to give Simon a hand and head home. Did you drive here? I'll park your car in the hangar if you brought it…"

"I came with Mitchell."

"Okay then. See you at home, honey."

I wave him goodbye, take the phone out of the utility-belt around my waist, and call Glen. Five rings later…"Hello?"

"Carlin?"

"Yes…" hm maybe this is his wife. I better… "Look if you're another sick reporter, prankster, blonde-hater, Jude Law's freaking stylist – leave him alone!" Wow, did she just tell me to fuck off?

"Look, I'm…" "Hello?" This sounds like Glen.

"Hey, Glen. It's Ashley Davies."

"Hey! I assume you got the card, huh?"

"I did. What is it for?"

"It's for my Gym… I carry a few of those around with me." Ah yeah, I heard he worked at some sports centre. "It'll give you access for a week. I know your foot is busted now, but when you feel better, please stop by… We'll take good care of you. Just try out our therapy and that foot shouldn't give you trouble anymore!"

"Okay, I will. Thanks. I don't have the address, though."

"Oh, right… Simone knows where it is. Have her drive you."

"Okay," I say as I hear him yelling 'coming'.

"I'm really sorry, I have to go. Spencer wants to bite my head off, already."

"Who's Spencer?"

"My twin."

"Oh!" He has a twin? There are two Glens?! Then the other one must be the real 'Tough Guy' cuz the blonde I saw today was nothing but _Tough Chicken_!!

"Madison says 'hi everyone,'" he tries to impersonate her voice. He's a funny chicken, I have to give him that!

"Hi back."

"So… See you soon?" he asks. Simone comes in and I hold my finger up.

"Yeah, sure."

"Bye then."

"Thanks again."

"No problem," and he hangs up.

"That was Glen. You've been to his work place?"

"Yeah. It's the hottest Gym in town, I tell you!"

"And you were there _because_?"

"Madison." Oh right. How could I forget? They've been inseparable ever since that race! Friday nights are all about speed-racing. Races take place on the runway, which is big enough and a lot safer than the actual streets where illegal street-racing takes place...So, yeah, they met shortly after my accident on this very 'racetrack'! Simone and Madison were neck-to-neck the whole way, but Simone managed to cross the finish line 3 inches ahead. Instead of the old 'hate the competition' scene, Simone offered to tune her car just right and they hit it off just like that.

"What?" she asks me when she notices the devilish smirk on my face.

"You're _so_ whipped!"

"What?!! I. Am. Not."

"You so are! You used to hate working-out. You hate any sort of physical activity…"

"What makes you think I'm working out? I just go to see her."

"You're a terrible liar, you know that? Don't give me that shit," I tease. I know her too well. AHahhh! "Look how toned you are… I should have noticed sooner!" she ducked her head a little bit. "Unless… She's giving you another type of workout," I tease again, wriggling my eyebrows suggestively.

"No!" Ah-ah gotcha! She's blushing. "We're not like that!" Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that sista.

"You like her. Admit it!"

"Maybe just a little bit." She moved her thumb and index finger half an inch apart.

"Nah-uh, that won't do…" I reach for her hand and bring the fingers apart a tad more… There. 3 inches! "Now that's better!"

She glares at her finghen back at me as we both say "Alot!!"

14


	3. Full house

**A.N.: Thanks for reviewing, ****Coachkimm****. And for those who subscribed, I appreciate it.**

**Here's chapter 2, guys. Hope u enjoy it.**

**This wasn't beta-read, so I apologize in advance for the spelling & grammar mistakes u come across… Manicfanfic has been super busy and I decided to give her a break so she can take the lil free-time she gets to work on her story "Daunting Silence"… u guys should check it out; it's really cool!! Give it a read, ok? Trust me on this! =)**

**Oh, and Feedback is important 'coz it's a way to know when/where I messed up, what I should do and/or don't do, and also how you're taking this story. Don't be shy, ok?**

**Now on with the story.**

**Copyright: **RR09. **Content Rating: **PG-13. **Disclaimer: **I do not own SON nor any of its original characters.

"Aim High"

Chapter 2 - Full House

(03-24-2009)

**Sunday, March 01, 2009 9:08am**

"Morning, Ashley!" Kyla walks pass me.

"Morning."

"Ashy...!" Simon kisses me on the cheek and continues his way down the corridor.

"Hey _you_! How's the foot?" Simone doesn't wait for an answer; five seconds later, she's gone.

Here I am, limping my way down the corridor... Oh, when I finally reach the stairs is gonna be _so _much fun... I'll be hopping down on one foot. Argh stupid ankle! I'm moving… That's it Ash: left, limp, left, double-limp. Pshh, I'm moving _alright_… turtle-slow! I'm glad Ferrari can't see me right now – he'd be laughing for beating me at slow pacing. How old is he again? Been a Davies turtle pet for… hm… a _very_ long time; but anyways… When I get to the kitchen there will be _no_ breakfast for me. Why? Let's see: Simone's still wearing PJ's, that can only mean one thing – she's PMS-ing, and she can eat a whole elephant, believe me. Whatever! I'm used to leftovers anyways. Hope there's some frozen pizza in the fridge…

The door 10 feet in front of me swings open... Oh, look, its Mitchell; I genuinely smile at him as I'm sure he's most likely the one to help me out. Another door opens to reveal…my mother!

"Mom!!"

"Hello Ashley" she waits 'til I reach her by the door to give me a hug.

"Hey Ash. Need a hand?" Mitchell lifts me in his arms and carries me down the stairs with mom behind us.

"I thought your flight was due this morning..."

"Is that your way of saying you're not happy to see me?"

"No, no... I am! I'm just surprised that's all."

"We landed late last night. I needed to make sure things were ready on time!" ah, yes! Mom and the undying need of perfection...

We finally reach the last step. Woah! Frenzy! There're boxes everywhere, people walking in and out, furniture standing in the middle of the hall; security personnel following around handymen, decorators, contractors... I forgot they've been here every day this week. The mansion is being set to host mom's annual ball... Tonight. This one is extra special, though... it's her farewell alongside her soon to be ex-partner, Alpert Greene - a handful violinist. She figured working with someone for 18 years was long enough... The great duo spent the last 6 months touring Europe and as from tonight, Davies & Greene would no longer be. I'm very supportive of my mother, although I confess it's a bit scary picturing Christine Davies - pianist extraordinaire - stepping away from the keys. I've always known her for an ass kicking passionate pianist, lovingly mother and aunt - don't get me wrong I love my mom and all the attention she provides when she's around - but this 'break', as she calls it, sounds more like an early retirement to me... She'll die without her music, audiences, tours... all of it. I know it!

"Mom, are you sure about this retirement thing?" I ask taking my place by the island in the kitchen.

"I'm not retiring, Ashley. It's only a break so I'm home more..."

"I'm not 12 anymore. We're all grown-ups in this house, mom. You don't have to be around us all the time! Music is your life. I don't want to see you unhappy."

"I won't be. I'll be in charge of the music program at the conservatory. I just feel I've learnt so much in these past 2 decades, and I've accomplished all that I aspired... It's time I share my knowledge. Alpert's doing the same as soon as he gets to Vienna."

"If you're sure..." who was I to argue?

"I am, honey. Don't worry."

"Hm Mom?" I suddenly remember about the dance. We are all supposed to waltz. It's a tradition mom never skips. Mitchell and I, Simon and Simone, Uncle T. and Mom paired up for it in the past 9 years. Kyla? Let's say she's not much of a dancer.

"Yes, dear."

"I can't dance" I look down at my foot.

"I've noticed… Troy told me about your "rough landing" " yes, she actually used air quotes. "Kyla can dance with Mitchell."

"What!!??"

"You think watching you guys do it for a decade was pointless? I can dance, dear sister, I just hate the straight pose and the whole formal, classy, swift movements a lady has to put up with..." Lady? You wish! Ah! "But since _Mom_ asked so nicely..." she bites on a piece of toast.

"Oh my God, you little..." I mute the word about to leave my lips. "You pretended not to..."

"Yep..."

"So you wouldn't..."

"Uh huh..."

"And we all believed you!?"

"Actually... You're pretty much the only one in the dark" says Mitchell presenting me a sandwich... PB&J! Yum. This boy is so good. He's a mind reader! "You've always been so passionate about it that you never really gave Ky a chance, considering either you or Simone would have had to stand down for her to pair with one of us" he points between himself and Simon.

I lightly smack myself. "More slapping, Ash? I can help you with that…" Simone chuckles jokingly.

"Nothankyouverymuch" I blurt out.

"Who slapped who?" mom asks. "Long story!" we both say as we share a look. See... Too much alike, I tell you…

"KIIIIDS!!" and .is... Lily Caprice – orchestra conductor /Mom's best friend.

"LILY!!!!" we all rush over to meet her halfway by the entrance.

"WassUp fools?" she never ceases to amuse us. We all hug her and stand waiting for _them_... "So

sorry, they didn't let me bring it on the plane."

"Awww..." we're all a little disappointed. The Swiss chocolates are the best! We're presented with them by this time of year.

"AH!" her tone goes up a notch as she claps her hands making me jump. "Gotcha! Run to the bus and help yourselves." neither of my young family members needed to be told twice. They run as the big kids they were. "And help my people unload, will ya" she shouts before they're out the door. "What are you still doing here, Ashley? Did you grow tired of the Swiss' " she puts a hand on her hip.

"Hardly! That'll never happen, Lily. I injured my foot. No running around."

"Ashley, dear..." she puts a hand on my lower back as she guides me to the chairs by the stairs "your mother's been very concerned about you this past year."

"I had the feeling this was why she's retiring" I sigh.

"Amongst other reasons, yes."

We sit down. "I don't want to be the reason she gives up on her career. I had an accident; it wasn't some crazy stunt to get attention, Lily!"

"I know. No one's saying that. Chris wants to make up for lost time. Your mom loves you girls so much. She's always tried her best to be there for you ever since--" The-man-whose-name-I-refuse-to-say left?

"Don't!!" I cut her off. "Let's not go there. It's irrelevant."

"Alright."

"Mom has never failed us, Lily. She's the best."

"Lily!" says Mom. "Come, come. I need help outside... Ashley, you don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not, Mom" she already had her by the hand, what was I supposed to say?

**Sunday, March 01, 2009 03:23pm **

"Everything's ready for our little show. Soundcheck went well. Will you treat us with one of your songs, tonight?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ash..."

"Simone...?"

"Your heart..."

"What about it?"

"You have to follow your heart!"

"Meaning?"

"I'm tired of playing this game with you so I'm gonna say it for the last time: you're better than any of us put together… you write well, you're sizzling hot on the guitar, and your voice is to die for..."

"I'm all classical. Piano's my thing, I don't do guitar, you know that."

"And we both know that's a lie!" Ugh, right. Three days before my accident, on this date, a year ago, I got so drunk the guys had to bring the door down. I was in my hideout. They found music sheets, my stealthy guitar and bottles of everything you can think of… I mean it. You can think whatever 'coz I have absolutely _no_ clue what half of that stuff was. I'd never been one to drink, in fact, that was the first time.

Pain. Pain drives you mad… so mad to the point of almost making yourself numb the heavy sting by pouring alcohol all over and lighting a match to burn away any traces in its vapors. I didn't do it… I'm not suicidal, okay! I just…drank. I drowned my sorrows for a couple hours 'til they barged in and helped me sober up.

"Whatever."

"The more you fight it, the more you'll struggle, you know..."

"What?"

"The feeling inside you. Learn to forgive so you can forget, Ashley. You need that in order to move forward and embrace all the things you love but deny yourself out of revenge."

"I'm not a vengeance seeker!"

"Okay, maybe that's a strong word, but you've become this…t-this _vindictive_ person who opts having nothing over _something, _to prove a _point_ that is rather… pointless, I must say. You don't have to like the guy, but you can't pretend his work isn't to praise, Ash. Ok, we all know you hate him but don't let the thought of him stop you."

The 'him' has a name: Sony Stathopoulos a.k.a ex-fiancé, ex-mentor, heartbreaker and conman. When I found out he had only built me up as an instrument to aid *ahem* the-man-whose-name-I-refuse-to-say's rollercoaster-of-a-career-decline, I felt the ground sink from under me and I almost sunk with it. I couldn't breathe.

"You sound like mom by the day!"

"Good!"

"You have to stop preaching me. It's getting old."

"I want you to see what we see, Ashley. We all know you're talented. And your talent…? It has _nothing_ to do with him, whatsoever!"

My so-called-father tried to lure me into a one sided loving marriage. He used the person he trusted the most to con his own daughter. He used his disciple. He used Sony. And I fell for him. I fell hard! I thought he was THE one… I was dead wrong.

At 18, I allowed myself to pursue a musical career when I thought I was finally over the fact my _father_'s fame wouldn't impact my life; I didn't want people to like me for who he was… One year later, reality check proved me a fool - I would never stop being referred to as 'Raife Davies' promising spawn'. That's the _thing_!

Simone was right about one thing: I forced myself into classical venues. No, that doesn't sound right… I really like it 'coz it's part of Mom's passion, but there had always been an instinctive need to push away _my_ passion for modern music - rock, specially - so I stuck to classical. 'Hate and Avoid' was my mantra. Hate the guy and avoid the most I could about him. Too much? Maybe. Can you blame me? Shut up! I'll answer that: hell no!!

Let's put it this way… He abandoned us - that's why Troy moved in - I was 4! His rockband was to tour around Europe; that's fine, it was a big deal – first time beyond American boarders – but the sad thing is: he never came back. He met some stunning Englishwoman and filed for divorce, 4 months into the tour. He abandoned and betrayed everyone, including his band when he signed for an English label and went solo. His sudden stardom rise marked the end of 'Purple Venom'.

My cousins, Kyla and I have always been into music as Mom talked as into a kids' music-school at a very early age. I took piano lessons, Mitchell took drums, Kyla and Simon ventured in classical guitar, and Simone tried a bit of everything and ditched them all, settling for vocals.

We're still in our teens when my folks decided to take 'The Daredevils' to a whole new level by looking for a music label. This whole process started 10 years ago… The DDs started as a 'garage' band and the name stuck with us and everything we chose to do.

So, back to Sony and I… I'd dropped college by the end of Freshman year. Although, there was a soft spot in my heart for music, I focused on my activities sky-high. Sony was introduced to me by an ex-colleague I still kept in touch with; he's a young curious producer looking for fresh prospects all over… We got involved; he took interest in the DDs, and thought me some of the things I'm great at today – music production.

"Give yourself a chance, Ash" she squeezes my hand before exiting my room.

**Sunday, March 01, 2009 04:55pm**

Where's my dress? Where's my dress? Wher-- Found it! I think I have to clean up this closet. I can get lost in here. And it's not the only thing I have to clean to avoid losing myself… Simone's right. I have to can these feelings soon. The sooner I get rid of them, the sooner I'll have some peace of mind.

It's incredibly difficult, though. Raife. Sony. The thoughts of these two put together suck the air out of my lungs! Mom once said 'the trick in making a challenge less disheartening is to break it into manageable parts'. Maybe it's time I learn to break down the spiral of emotions that cross through me… a spiral pulling me constantly to the past; a past I wish I could undo. I cannot! All I'm left with is an unknown path to follow. A path I must unravel by each and every unsteady step I take. A step at a time, one after another. There's no going back… Forward is the way!

**Sunday, March 01, 2009 06:18pm**

I see Mr. and Mrs. Harley - the sweetest couple I've ever met, talking to Arvin Zita – Purple Venom's ex-bass player - one of the UN's ambassadors... you know... like Angelina Jolie, and Bono from the U2.

Oh, is that… Nooooo…. Is that…? Hristo is here!?? That means... "ASH!!!"

"Oh my God, Elly! You made it!"

"There's no way I would miss this" says Elisa Koleva, my bff.

"Damn, Mom's some special lady to have you guys flying the whole way from BG!" I say jokingly.

"Ah shut up and give me a hug" I met Elly and Hristo when their family moved next door 9 years ago. Their father was a major contractor that transferred from Bulgaria. When his contract expired 5 years later, they went back home, to Veliko Tarnovo. Of course we kept in touch but it wasn't the same... I can't believe she's really here!!

"For how long are you--" "We're back!!" she says excitingly.

"BACK back??"

"Yes!!! We got here a month ago... Praying we wouldn't run into any of you! Don't be mad, we wanted it to be a surprise... We needed to get things going before spreading the news - you know how I hate when things don't work out the way I planned."

"Yeah, 'coz you don't only disappoint yourself but everyone else in the process. I still think that's bullshit coming from you but..." I shrug "I still love you" I wink at her.

"Oh you better 'coz I'm stuck on you, A.D."

"...Your parents?"

"In Bulgaria. It's just us..." she pointed to her brother. "Hristo landed a job at the same company daddy used to work for, and you're looking at the new assistant-graphic-designer for Teen16."

"Elly!!!" I hug her again. I can't contain my excitement. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Ash. My my... Beautiful crutch you have there!" it was light, tin and transparent. "Quite fancy. Are you holding it for some old lady?" she couldn't know I was injured. She hasn't seen me walking yet, and who would think I'd be wearing heels in my condition...?

"Foot prob" I whisper.

"Huh?"

"Daredeviling thing."

Her lips form a silent 'O'.

"Mitch can't stop looking at you" I say grinning. These two were very much in love when she left.

"Did he hook up with anyone after…" "Nope. I guess he never got over you."

"Or maybe I crushed him so bad that he swore never to jump into a relationship ever again."

"With someone that's not you, yes, probably."

"You think—" "Absolutely! Go get him Tigress!"

Ah, young love! Sigh. I can totally picture those two having 2.5 children in a couple years. Hm… Ahem… Okay, they make a sweet couple but the having kids part… make it happen when I'm 35, please Lord. What? I'm still young to be called 'Aunt Ashy'. Oh lets change the subject.

"Have you seen Kyla?" Simone's voice brings me back to the real world.

"No. Why?"

"I'm about to change outfits for the dance. I can't find her."

"I'll find her. Go."

I walk around the pillar I was leaning on with eyes fixed on my phone's display. Someone bumps into my back and the device slips from my hand "Hmph…"

"Pardon me" I hear a female voice. I spin around right when she's crouching to pick it up from the floor, and ends up entangling her arms between legs and crutch, making me loose balance. "Ugh…" I feel something hard pressing against my back avoiding my fall... "Woah, Ash, you shouldn't be wearing heels with _that_ foot!" it was Simon.

"What would I be wearing with this dress? Flipflops?!" I turn to face him.

"Here" the clumsy blonde quickly attaches the battery to the back of the phone and extends it to me.

I turn back to her, yank it from her pale hand and try to turn it on… it didn't happen. "Great! You broke it!"

"So—" "Whatever!" apologies weren't going to help me find Kyla.

"It wouldn't be a problem t—" "You have a phone?" I cut her off.

"Yes" she quickly reaches inside her purse and gives it to me.

I turn to face him again and I quickly dial Kyla's number… "What's going on, Ash? Calling the fire department or something?" Simon asks.

"The opening is in about a half hour and Kyla is nowhere to be seen" it went straight to voicemail. Crap!

"Oh! Bad! What now?" he asks.

"I'm trying to figure something out…" think Ashley! Think…! THINK!!

"You're in no condition to dance."

"Well, thank you Captain Obvious" I say sarcastically.

"May I have my phone back?" oh her phone…right. She's still here…

I give it to her. She gives a couple steps to the side to get pass us "Hey, wait!"

"Yes?" she spins around.

She has the same built as me. Maybe… "You waltz?" I ask.

"Excuse me?!"

"Have you ever waltzed? Can you dance the waltz?" I give a step forward in her direction.

"I did once. At… prom?" she said hesitantly. Prom! She looked my age - that must have been 5 or 6 years ago - and I have the feeling they didn't get at all 'technical'. Whatever. Once in a lifetime is better than never.

"Come with me" I grab her by the wrist.

"Hey!" she yanks free from my grip, immediately.

"Ash, are you sure about this?" Simon seemed to have caught with my strain of thought.

"Well, do you have a better idea?"

"Hm…"

"No, right? Then let me…" I turn to the girl once again. "Sorry, hm… I didn't get your name…"

"I'm..." "Ashley Davies!" errrr that annoying prick…again?! "Would you let me take some pictures alongside your mother, tonight?" Ugh, three words: nightmare, nightmare, nightmare! Shay Larson - the most annoying photographer to the stars – also known as 'Boogieflash'. He wasn't invited! If this paparazzi causes any trouble I'm going to make sure he's humiliated to the point he's career's over in 4.1 seconds. No one is going to ruin, tonight… No one!! Mark my words!

"Hm yeah, sure whatever Shay" I need him out of my way so I can have this one cover for Kyla. "You were saying…?"

"I'm… a… I'm…"

Is she freaking out? No no noooo… my only hope can't freak out right now! "Hey" snap my fingers in front of her eyes.

"I'm Marie".

A dry "Ah!!" comes from Shay's throat.

"MOVE!!!" I bark at him. He lifts his hands in surrender and walks off.

"Marie…" I let out a sigh "My sister's supposed to waltz in less than half an hour and we can't find her. I need you to cover for her."

"What?!!"

"Please!"

"But I don't know the steps… I mean… choreography!"

"Basic steps. No trading pairs. Don't worry. Mitchell will guide you, he's a really great dancer; you have nothing to worry about, just relax and follow his lead." I grab her hand firmly expecting a bit of resistance but get any. Good. I hurryingly take her upstairs… as fast as my foot lets me. I wish I could take that jump back! I'm seriously regretting it, now.

**Sunday, March 01, 2009 06:57pm**

I can't stop fidgeting my fingers. I'm concerned. Can she pull it off? The American-styled waltz she's familiar with is quite different from this one. It took me two years to master it. The true Viennese Waltz is faster and one's constantly in rotating motion... I hope she doesn't feel sick with all the spinning.

I took a front seat next to Elly and Hristo who are as anxious as I am from the beautiful scene to come.

The small orchestra is divided by both sides of the stairs. Lily starts swaying her arms and the enchanted melody reaches my ears. So beautiful!

The pairs walk down the steps and take their respective positions, in an open circle, in the middle of the entrance-hall.

"This is so Princess Diaries" says Elly. I'd say Cinderella.

The girl looks gorgeous! The champagne colored dress fits her perfectly. The tiara looks better on her than me. The jewelry isn't as captivating as her eyes, though… They're sure something else! Her blonde hair sparkles under the chandelier's glimmer… She looks like a modern-day Cinderella.

"Is that her?" Elly asks.

"Yes."

When the 10th couple takes its position on the dance floor, they all bow, and now… let's see what you've got.

**Sunday, March 01, 2009 07:25pm**

I don't know why I was so stressed after all - she was amazing! She managed to do what it took me years, in 17 minutes, with such class and delicacy. Although, Mitchell has his fair share of credit on this one, she's a natural.

"Hey, you were great!" says Simone.

"Thanks for doing this" I say, unzipping both of their dresses.

"I didn't know you waltzed!" huh? They've met before? When??

"You know each other?"

"Yeah" replies my substitute.

"… By the same time I met Madison… In fact, through Madison" Simone tells me, anticipating my query.

They both slide off their dresses. "Where did you…" the girl's eyes sweep the whole room.

"Oh, the bathroom…" she wants her clothes. "Right behind you." I tell her.

"I'll change in here then" and she closes the door behind her.

"SimONEee…?" I slap her left butt cheek.

"What?!"

"Stop drooling! You were eye fucking her."

"No, I was _not_!!"

"You're a terrible liar! You so were… you so wanted to jump her the sec that dress came off! You're into Madison, remember?"

"And that's exactly _why_ I didn't – I'm into Mads!"

"You really like her, I can tell" I sit on my bed.

"I'm gonna ask her tonight. I'm so nervous!"

"Ask her…?" "… to be my girlfriend."

"I'm sure she'll say 'yes', she'll be a fool not to. But…" I pause with a mischievous smirk on my face.

"Oh-oh, what now…?"

"If she plays the fool you have plan B" I wrinkle my eyebrows suggestively.

"What?? _Her?!_" she points to the door. "No!" and she shakes her head furiously.

"Ah! What? Is she straight, taken,…Oh my Gosh.… she so doesn't look like a nun!" I fake a surprised expression. "Simone, you have the hots for a Nun…that can waltz!! I should have known only a weird one would know how to in these parts.

"You know, you're the only person I know that laughs at their own stupid jokes, right? Not funny!" she throws me a pillow.

"Really?!" I say as she puts on the robe hanging behind the bedroom door, and puts it on. "So why you're still laughing?" I tease.

"Ugh…" she gives me the finger.

"Awww… Love you, too!"

And off she goes!

My phone rings. Ugh, no, it's not mine... Where is it... Where is it? I quickly follow the tone only to find Simone's under her gloves on my desk. She keeps stealing my ringtones! It's so confusing.

"Simone Davies' phone. Ashley speaking..."

"Ashley, it's Madison. We're almost there." who's 'we'?

"I'm coming, Ash" I hear someone on the background. Kyla?!

"Kyla??"

"She's with me. I had some trouble with my dress... I tore it on my car's door when I was right outside your place; Kyla came with me and convinced a tailor she knows to fix it for me."

"The waltz already passed. No point in rushing back now."

"Your sister says the waltz's a goner" I hear the Latina say.

"Put her on speaker..." Kyla says. "I'm so sorry, Ash. Please don't hate me. My phone died and Mads couldn't reach you 'til now..."

"It's okay, Ky. Someone else covered for you." Marie exits the bathroom in the clothes she came with. The dark blue dress went well with her eyes!

"Thank God. I know you want things to be perfect for Mom, tonight. Sorry I wasn't there."

"Forget about it now. Just get here and, when you do, hit the guest-house for our party."

"K."

"Do you know if Spencer made it there, Ash?" asks Madison.

"I don't know," I didn't notice any Glen look-a-like downstairs "but hey... I heard about the scandal last year, the girl thing, and dropping off the team... I don't think it's a good idea for Spencer to be around. The last thing I want is the media marching in, and crushing this party pursuing tomorrow's frontpage story."

"That's the last thing Spencer wants, rest assured." Madison said.

"Hold on, let me ask someone..." I turn to Marie. "Have you seen Spencer Carlin?" she shakes her head sideways. "Yeah, I don't think Spencer is around. I'm really curious about this Carlin but I can't have attention drawn from my Mom."

"I understand. See you in a bit. We're almost there."

"Okay."

"Bye."

I turn to face Cinderella "Hey, do you want t---"

She's gone.

**Sunday, March 01, 2009 08:46pm **

I'm in the guest-house. Simon's been a great host so far. He managed to keep about 30 people entertained all by himself. We invited between 50 people this year. Cutting the list by half will prove to have been a wise decision by the end of the night, I'm sure... When we counted on a certain number to show, there would be in fact twice that, meaning we're expecting to mingle with 100 familiar and unfamiliar faces.

I'm in the Dj-booth as I spot Cinderella talking to Ronan. She was quite rude leaving without a word, earlier. But hey, I was on the phone after all, maybe she didn't want to interrupt. Nah, she still could have waited. The girl just did me a huge favor… I'm going to back off of her case, in consideration.

"Hey" Simone sneaks into the booth.

"Took you a while…"

"Kyla was holding Mads hostage" she says with a serious tone.

I chuckle. "What?!"

"She helped her fix her dress, right?" I nod. "So she made her promise to keep her company 'til you sister showered, dried her hair, dressed-up yada yada yada…" and an hour flew by in the process. Oh Ky, you're some piece of work!

"So where are they?"

"Right there" she points the finger to where they're standing on the dance floor.

Kyla looks in my direction, raises her arms and sways her hips… I catch on what she's telling me. She wants to dance! She and everyone else for that matter as I see a group moving to the light beat of "If this is love" by The Saturdays. I'm just warming-up here, I want to get everyone moving before the other DD's play a couple of songs.

I glance to the door and I feel tonight's good vibe is about to get screwed by strong winds approaching…

"What is 'The Big Yellow Bird Crew' doing here?" I ask teasingly when I spot Drake and Danielle. "Did you call for the Muppets show?"

"Wh—" Simone follows my gaze.

"Ashley, Simone…" says Danielle.

"Danielle…" I nod in acknowledgement.

"What are you doing here?" I can tell Simone's feeling as bothered as me.

"We were invited" says Drake.

"No, I was…" Marcus cuts in. "Kyla invited _me_ but these four refused to stay behind.

"I see they still follow your stinking ass everywhere, huh" Simone isn't liking this one bit.

I know they're dating but what the hell was Kyla thinking inviting Marcus over… seriously?? An obvious recipe for disaster, that's for sure. Danielle's his freaking sister and the whole crew showing-up is the tip of the iceberg about to rock our boat. Way to crash a party!

"We won't cause any trouble…" he said "…right, Danni?"

They go their separate ways and mingle. They better not cause trouble or else…

Marcus goes to my sister, Simone joins her Latina friend, Mitchell's with Elly, Hristo… is talking to some Barbie clone… Oh that's Cinderella, I almost didn't recognize her, she let her hair down. So, Hristo is with _Barbie_, Danni's getting a drink… Okay, they're staying away from each other; that's good. Good!

"Ash!!" Kyla screams at me. Oh, right… Music! The song ended and the room was completely silent apart from the guests gossiping here and there.

I pump up the volume and the bodies get moving again. Good thing we soundproofed the building when we decided to turn it into our very own music studio.

After a couple songs I get a special request from a girl I've never seen before… "The naughty song" by Cory Lee. Good choice… And _so_ gay. 50% of the female population here loves it.

I look to my crew once again. Is that Danni flirting with Barbie girl?! Ooooo… Simone grabs her by the arm making her let go of the blonde. Oh-oh… I take out the headphones and rush over them… "Don't mess with my friends, Danni!" she warns

"Simone, we were just dancing" says the blonde.

"You don't know her. She's trying to get into your head."

"For what? To get to you…?" Danielle eyes her up and down. "Don't flatter yourself."

"You better go" I advise her.

"I didn't do anything, Ash. Your cousin here has a dirty mind…"

"Shut it, Danni!!"

"Fuck off!" Danielle barks and I'm barely able to catch Simone in mid-air, as she plunges to her neck, preventing some serious girl-fighting.

"Danielle. Leave" I'm not telling, I'm demanding it. And she disappears from our sight.

"Wow, what was that all about?" Marie asks.

"Calm down" says Madison by Simone's side.

"They don't get along well, that's what" I vaguely say before making my way back to the booth. Ugh, I suck! I could as well have kept my mouth shut. 'they don't get along well…" duh! That was obvious! Errr whatever.

About 10 minutes later, my hot headed cousin is by me again…

"Where did she go?" I ask her.

"What do I care?"

"Calm down, already! I was asking about Madison…"

"Restroom."

Did you ask her?"

"I'm about to. I chickened out while we were dancing but I'm doing it when she's back."

"Don't be nervous" her breathing isn't steady. "Breathe, okay" I know the signs of panic attacks.

"Easier said than done" she sighs.

"'Mone, she took your car" says Mitch.

"Argh I'm going to bite her head off!" uh huh, my cousin gets very emotional when it comes to her 4 wheeler. "Damn her!" her fist hits the air, in annoyance. We all know who's this about.

"What's cooking...?" Madison appears from behind us.

"Can I borrow your car?" Simone asks her... Didn't really sound like a question but...

"Sure, but--" she gives her the keys. "Thanks," and with one quick peck the lips, she's gone.

Madison turns to me with questioningly look on her face. I shrug with both my eyebrows raised, faking having no clue. The last thing I want is to cause any trouble between her and Simone as I wasn't sure if she knew about the Ex.

"Danielle took her car. She's totally gonna ruin it" says Mitch. I give him a not-so-pleased-look. Ugh thanks big-mouth!

"Oh! I'm going after them" Madison charges to the door at full speed only to spin around midway and back. "...Please?" I was expecting that.

I swing my carkeys in front of her with a smirk "Only if I come with you" she nods and we make our way out of the house.

We get in my car. Madison's in the driver's seat. She starts the Dodge and quickly drives away from my front gate into the main road.

"Any idea where they might be going?" she asks.

"The airfield, maybe. Hm wait, no..." It's pretty far and knowing Danni she's probably going somewhere she can corner Simone in a conversation; she's all about leverage. Her house? "I don't know" I lied.

"No worries. I got a GPS tracking system installed in my car." she takes out her phone. Her fingers start puncturing the keyboard. "The only think I need to do is enter a code and...there!" our vehicles were equipped with one of those, too. I never had to use it before though.

"Where are they?"

"3 miles ahead" gosh, are they speeding bullets or something?! They're flying! "Seatbelt" she says before pressing down on the gas pedal, and I see the speedometer go up from 60 to 100.

I notice flashing headlights behind us as the car tries to keep up... I quickly hit the '2' key and speed dial "You should have stayed, Mitch."

"You thought I'd stay put to hear my little sister broke that girl's neck, in the news tomorrow?"

"I can referee by myself."

"You can't even drive your own car much less keep those two from rolling on a fist fight. Just admit you're glad to have backup... Woah, Madison is flying!"

"Yeah, try to keep up" I hang up.

Madison punches the stereo on and Paul Oakenfield's Remix of 'If You're Gonna Jump' by Natasha Bedingfield starts blaring through the speakers. "Ooooh this song is so YOU!!" she tells me. She's right. It's 100% a pure description of the disclosed and enclosed persona that's Ashley Davies. Welcome to my song-like-bio folks.

"Minus the rockstar part."

"That's not what I've heard."

"So you spend your freetime talking about moi. How flattering."

"She cares alot about you. You're like a big sister... She looks up to you."

"I know. Sometimes I think I'm the youngest, though... There!" I point a finger to the windshield. "See the stoplights up ahead?"

"I see them, I see them."

We park behind Madison's GTO.

"Can you ladies please keep it down?" I hear the police officer say.

The girls didn't seem to care about his presence. They kept yelling "Who do you think you are to tell me who I'm to dance with or not?" Danielle pushes on Simone's shoulder.

"I couldn't care less who you dance or do 'business' with just as long as it's not a friend of mine."

Madison and I exit the vehicle with Mitchell and Marie right behind us. Why did he bring her...?

"So what if you're dating brownie and blondie over here..." she points to both girls "...that doesn't make them _your_ property!"

"Ladies!" the officer is getting impatient, I can tell.

"Who says I'm dating? But you know what... I totally should... Mads?" she turns to Madison. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

Madison didn't say a word. I think she stopped breathing...

"This was not how I wanted things to happen, believe me but now we're here and I..." Simone's rambling by now.

"Ladies!" "SHUT UP!" we all say... all but Danni.

"Mads?" "Yes" she finally answers.

Yes! I punch my fist in the air. "PDA" I cough as they kiss.

"That's it, ladies, I'm reporting you..." he reaches for the radio. "Dispatch, this is PC1-3, status 10-1. I have a possible 10-25. I need an ID run on plate Sierra Victor Delta Four Seven Seven Four?"

10-33, PC1-3.

"If we get in trouble this is your entire fault!" Simone's practically on Danielle's face. Madison is holding her back.

PC1-3… Vehicle is registered under the name of Simone Valery Davies. Do you request a 10-9 to 10-14?

"10-33."

Good thing the Daredevils know Military Police Radio Codes. There used to be a lot of street racing a few years back… Simone had us singing it as if it was 'ABC'.

"Who's Simone Davies?" he asks.

"I am, Officer."

"Did you lend your car to Miss..." he checks what I assume is an ID-card "...Levi?" no one answered. "You can report your vehicle stolen Miss Davies. And I don't have to tell you that driving without license and registration is a felony, Miss Levi. Plus I'll have to take you in for trespassing a red-light and give you a speeding ticket."

"This is bad" I say under my breath but not low enough for Marie to hear.

"Why? Can't she pay for it and leave?" she asks.

"Dispatch, PC1-3 engaging 10-8 for 10-10. ETA 15 minutes." 10-40, PC1-3. Really bad! He's going to take her to the station.

"She has a long record. And when I say 'long' I mean LONG. They pull her record and she's in. Her parents won't bother bailing her out this time" I state, knowing very well how Mr. and Mrs. Levi react in these situations. When she got in trouble they'd let her pay for her mistakes, unlike Simone that always found a way to get her out of trouble. Not this time though.

The blonde walks up to the Officer "Officer, what will it take to let this one slip?" she's blunt. Trying to bribe a policeman?!

"Are you trying to bribe me!? Want me to take you in, too?"

"No, of course not. I was thinking of it as an exchange of favors."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, Officer...?"

"Lightyear..." seriously!?

"Officer Lightyear I..." I can't hear the rest because my attention is diverted to an annoying roaring engine behind us. Ah just what we needed... Larson.

"Well well well... The Davies clan in trouble with the cops, tse tse tse" he says.

"You smell rotten goods and you come crawling as the rat you are" says Danielle.

"What will your family think of their sweet little cookie when they see these pictures in the morning?" he takes a picture of her, then more of us.

"You can go" says Lightyear with a content look on his face. "But I'm still writing you that speeding ticket Miss Levi" he starts writing on the ticket pad. "Dispatch, 10-34. I repeat: 10-34."

"Whatever" she says.

The blonde walks over to us once more. "What did you tell him?" asks Madison.

"Nothing special... Just introduced myself and gave him 3 personalized cards" she acts as if it was no big deal.

"I'm surprised that worked" admits Madison.

"Me too" she whispers.

I'm in the dark here. Cards? For what...?

"You're welcome" the blonde says sarcastically.

"Danni, show some gratitude dammit!" Simone yells.

"Whatever" is all she says. Oh, bad choice of words! S3's in motion. Simone's Slapping System is engaged immediately. *Slap* "Oww!" yep, that hurt. My cheeks are getting hot just for the memory of yesterday's events. Ouch.

"I knew it! It's you!" huh? "These are earning me a fat paycheck, tomorrow" Shay starts taking snapshots of our faces. Argh, he's blinding me!

"Stop it!" I plead. He doesn't. "I told you, you could have all the pictures you wanted _at_ the party..." that's when I realize he's not interesting in mine; he's following Marie around.

Gets in Madison's car and accelerates pass us before making a sharp U-turn that left markings on the pavement. Woah!

She exits the car and walks over Shay as a guided missile; her heels making steady sounds on contact with the dark surface as we all watched the scene unfold in silence... Her flat palm hits his chest 1,2,3,4 times until he stumbles back and his behind hits the ground with a thud. Double-woah!! Barbie's not to be messed with, I see.

"This is assault! Officer, do something!" the fool was actually scared. I can't blame him, I'd be, too.

"I didn't see anything. Did you girls?" this cop is the best, ah!

The camera is yanked from him, the memory card removed and broken silently between pale fingers. Nicely done, Barbie!

She gets back in the car and speeds off leaving burning rubber smoke to poison his lungs. Triple-woah!!

"What the hell was that about?" I ask pointing in the direction she went.

"Maybe now you start minding your own business, Mr. Larson" says Mitchell.

"Is the pavement tasty, Larson?" Simone asks mockingly. "In need of any salt or pepper? Ketchup, maybe?" Mitch and Madison laughed at this.

"Seriously, guys... I think that was totally cool but maybe too much coming from her. What's up with that Marie chick?" I turn to them.

"Marie!??" he gets up to brush off his pants. "That's Spencer Carlin" says Shay as if I'm the biggest fool on Earth.

I turn to Madison for confirmation and she nods repeatedly.

My hand hits me square on the forehead. Oh crap!

34


	4. Need

**A/N:**** Thanks a bunch ****ManicFanFic**** for all the support and for beta-reading, of course =) U are not feeling 100% :( and u still made an effort…I really appreciate it. U're the BEST! I'll teddy-bear u til u feel better ^^**

**Thanks ****Coachkimm**** and ****Tell-Me-the-Truth-24**** for the comments. **

**For everyone reading/putting alerts/adding this story to their fav's I appreciate it :)**

**Copyright:**RR09. **Content Rating:**PG. **Disclaimer:**I do not own SON nor any of its original characters.

"Aim High"

Chapter 3 - Need

(04-03-2009)

**Monday, March 02, 2009 04:46am**

So I went to this party, or should I say Ball, last night and I can't find a better word to describe it than "awkward." I didn't want to go. I really came up with excuses, pretty good ones, I must say, but Mads didn't buy a single one. Ugh I hate her! She can tell when I'm lying even before the words leave my mouth. So I went. I went to the Davies' 10th Annual Ball.

Last night, ugh... Last night was a _disaster_ to put it lightly.

Okay, don't get me wrong. I'm glad she's happy and what happened last night is the cause of her happiness, but God... Can she gimme a break!?? The answer to that: nOoooo!

The real reason I agreed to it? _Spencer_ here is a sucker for matters of the heart.

"You have to come... for- for…for moral support," said Madison with big puppy-like eyes, and I _fell_ for it. She's head over heels for one of the Davies girls, Simone. They're infatuated with each other - makes me want to throw up sometimes. Why? I can think of a few good enough reasons… 1. 23 out of 24 hours in the day, Madison's in her day-dreamy crushing state; 2. I'm constantly talking to myself when the crush subject _is_ around; 3. Madison only gets a third of her workload done when she _isn't_ around; 4. I can't stand the touching and complimenting and all the cute stuff couples do to each other… Eww! All innuendos of how whipped they are, if you ask me. But…you… didn't… O-kaaayy…

Anyways, back to last night's events. _Madison_ tore _her_ dress when we got to the mansion. _I_ was _urged_ in to represent her while she and Kyla scrapped the city for _some_ tailor to fix the garment. Everything was fine until that stupid photographer recognized me! No, wait... Things got _bad_ way before that; like... when I bumped into Kyla's sister, Simone's cousin, beyond-beautiful-jumper-chick. She looked really nice wearing something else aside from the usual jumpsuit. Beautiful.

I've seen her before... At the airfield.

Ever since Mads met Simone, and took me to the airfield a few months ago, I spend the early mornings watching the sunrise on the weekends. It's beautiful there. She does the same. Ashley. It's a ritual for her, I think... I mean, watching the sunrise and getting on the plane… And I watch her fly by with such grace.

Last night was the first time I saw her up close. She's beautiful. Oh, I did just say 'beautiful' twice in less than a minute, didn't I?! But, hell, she _is_! Her hazel eyes are just so…inviting and—Oh Spencer, stop it, right now! You don't even know her and-and she was _rude_ last night… You don't want any of that. You _dislike _her. D-i-s-l-i-k-e, dislike _her_.

Besides, those girls are all beautiful! Kyla, Simone, Ashley, Danielle, Ash—HA! No way I'll put up with Ashley again. She made it pretty clear I wasn't welcomed. I know she probably judged me based on old facts that weren't entirely true but the hell with that! She didn't even bother to look into them; the first thing that pops out of Google's search engine, she eats it like a pregnant woman craving a freaking newspaper. Ha!

Here I am now, seated at my doorstep, tired as hell 'coz the newest couple is having _fun_ under the covers. Sigh. Those two are like bunnies! They've been going at it for over 5 hours straight. Five hours of "AhhHhh", "Right there", "Give it to me Baby"… Yep, my ears are very much red!

My internal ranting smokes away when a cab pulls by the curb, on the other side of the street. The person walks to the Brown's residence. Mr. Brown is quite a lonely man and usually isn't fond of visits; I wonder who _that_ is… Hopefully not the bearer of bad news.

*Bang bang bang* "Simone, we need to talk." What the-- It's Danielle! She's crazy to be knocking on a door this early, especially Mr. Brown's. If she only knew she's banging on a police officer's door probably picking his .38 from under his pillow, ready to shoot her on sight…

This is classic. I can't help but roll my eyes as I quickly make my way to the younger version of Winona Ryder with short black hair. Spencer to the rescue.

"Hey," I whisper.

"SIMONEEEE…" okay, she's either ignoring me or she's deaf. I vote for the second guess.

I put my hand on her left shoulder to catch her attention, and it worked 'coz less than a second later, I'm ducking and trying to get out of harm's way. Her fist missed my nose. "Whoa, easy!!"

"Great reflexes, Blondie," she says.

"She's not there."

"My source says she _is_. So don't bother convincing me to leave," she turns back to the door and bangs on it again "SImooooNeeeee…." Crazy girl!

"Shhhh…" I pull her away from the steps. "This is a police officer's residence and he's not as _forgiving_ as Officer Lightyear. It's five in the morning!!"

"I know that. And I also know she's with Brownie."

"Okay, yes, they're together." I admit. "In _there_." I point out to my house. Our house. Mads and I are roommates. Aiden moved out a couple weeks ago, when his boyfriend Jake asked him to move in with him.

"What are you doing up anyways. Oh, okay…jogging, I see." She crosses the street.

"Hm yeah, I was about to start my routine when I spotted you over there." I lied.

"Don't let me stop you. Go on." She lifts her arm to bang on my door but I stop her…

"Don't!"

"I need to talk to her!"

"Then do it some other time. You shouldn't bother… Not now."

"Why n—" _"AhHhhh… I'm cumming… Hmhmm… Ahhh…"_ how's that for an answer? Danielle was frozen in place for a couple of seconds.

"Was that…?"

"I think she's moved on. Maybe you should do the same, you know?" Her face drops. Are her eyes… watering?

"Stupid, stupid, stupid…" she hits her fist on her right hip in frustration. "I just… I just…" yep, she's trying to hold back the tears. Her head bows.

"I'd invite you in for some coffee but I don't think you want to listen to more of _that_." She gives me an 'are you kidding me?' look and bows her head again. "Listen, there's a coffee place 10 minutes away… If you'd like to keep me company…" she just nods.

I leap inside to get my wallet, and off we go.

**Monday, March 02, 2009 05:27am**

I'm now at 'Café Milano' sipping on my second cappuccino, with Danielle in front of me. I let her vent the whole way here. She didn't get into details nor did I understand much, but I'm sure of one thing: she's torn.

"…Yeah, at Madison's house. Yes. In 30? Okay. Thanks. Bye." She hung up. "Sorry. That's my ride back home."

I don't say anything.

"I know about you, Marie…or should I say _Spencer_." Should I be screaming 'yay'? At least she knows who I am, unlike _some_ people. "I think I know what happened last night." I keep quiet. "Larson freaked you out."

"He gets on my nerves."

"Doesn't he always? He's a rat after a stinking story. We all have to put up with him..."

"I just want to be left alone, you know."

"It wasn't your fault, Spencer. Your name was cleared. No need to hide anymore."

"Not everyone knows that. Some people think I did it." People like Ashley.

"So? Screw them!"

I don't say a word.

"Are you planning on getting back to competing anytime soon?"

"I doubt that'll happen. The bullet damaged a nerve. I can't push myself too hard. My shoulder can't take it."

"I see… But I read there's a good chance of a 100% recovery. Did the numbers drop?"

"I'm still seeing a physician. He believes I'll be as good as new in a few more months. I doubt it, though." That's what he always tells me every time. It's been a year already.

"Don't worry about how long it's gonna take. Just set your mind to it and it _will_ happen!"

"Positive thoughts, right?!"

"Thank you." What? Why? "…For whatever you said or did last night. You know… the Cop…?"

"You're welcome."

"And for saving me from getting shot by Mr. Brown and making a fool of myself in front of Simone just now…"

"No problem."

"Do you think we can start walking back now?"

"Sure. Let's go."

We leave our table and head to the door. "After you," she lets me exit first.

"You seem to know a great deal about my life…"

"Damn those 4 misfortunate appearances in the newspapers!" There's fake distress in her words. "I heard about you way before that. We have a friend in common… Chelsea Lewis."

"Chelsea?"

"She introduced us at my gallery… The art expo in June 2007? Chelsea had that _amazing_ glass piece bought by Marc Jacobs…?"

"Yes! Yes! I remember. The 'Levi & Levant' art gallery, of course!" Danielle Levi's the proud owner of one of Chelsea's favorite galleries, and an artist herself; my sister-in-law wouldn't shut up about her 'til very recently, due to the fact that 'Levi & Levant' allowed her to go to Paris and learn from the best of the best in order to grow as an artist.

"I don't think you paid much attention to art that night…" I give her a quizzical look. "You were preoccupied with burning invisible holes into the heads of anyone who showed interest in your girlfriend."

"Ex-girlfriend."

"Sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Things just got weird after the scandal and while I slowed down after the shooting, the sport kept her busy… Eventually, Carmen and I grew apart."

"Do you keep in touch, still?" If you count her being sort of my call-girl and fuck-buddy whenever it's convenient as keeping in touch then…

"Yes. We go out for coffee occasionally, and we see each other at parties – we have many friends in common," it's true, we do casual sometimes "so it's hard not to bump into her even if I don't want to."

"And how often do you want to?" I shot her another questioning look. Lots of questions, and she catches up with my thoughts… "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just this thing with Simone… I wish I… I wish I could do that…"

"What?"

"See her _occasionally_ and have a pleasant conversation without the yelling and insults bouncing off the walls. I miss our friendship. That's how it started with us: we befriended at first; the whole romantic rise came years later."

"Madison is good for her. And she seems really happy with Madison, so…"

"…Suck it up and let them be?"

"Yes. Let it go. What's meant to be will be."

"You're not bad to talk to, you know that?"

"You too. You're nothing like that ungrateful bitch I had to put up with last night." I tease.

"Again, sorry about that." She says sincerely. "What did you say to the officer anyways?"

"I introduced myself as the sister of THE GREAT Glen Carlin, and that I had just posed for 'Playboy' magazine's soon to be released issue."

"Whoa! For real???!"

"Of course NOT!" I snap my head at her. "That was to make him forget about you stealing the car and driving without a license. I gave him 3 autographed cardkeys to my gym so he wouldn't take you in."

"Lifetime access?!!!"

"Of course not. A month. Which he won't use 'coz he's a cop and only has time to… eat… donuts? Did you notice the layers of fat beneath the uniform?!"

"I really hope he doesn't show up."

"Me too. He was practically drooling over me. Oh good, Madison's already left. Would you like to come in?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks."

**Monday, March 02, 2009 06:12am**

This girl isn't as bad as everyone _almost_ led me to believe. She's not cold-hearted. She's hurt and heartbroken. But I feel she's strong. I'm sure she'll get past it all once things are resolved with Simone.

I hear two knocks on the front door. It's probably her ride back home. I swing the door open only to find… "Ashley!!" The smile on my face drops unconsciously.

"Hi Spencer. I came for Danny…" I look over her shoulder to see an orangey SUV parked behind her. She came alone? I look down at her foot. "It doesn't hurt much, and it's automatic," she's referring to the car. "Two pedals, one foot…" she smiles at me and I mentally slap myself for just standing there all stiff and speechless. Should I invite her in? Yes. No. Yes. N- "Danielle?" she calls, looking in over my shoulder this time.

"She's— " "Right here." I hear her say from down the corridor. "Sorry. I was in the restroom."

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah." I step to the side so she can walk past the door. "Thanks Spence. You're really nice to talk to. You think we can go out for coffee again some time?"

"Sure. But you have to promise to entertain me with emo talk the whole way," I say cynically.

"Oh I know you loved it. Count on it!"

"Call me…."

"I will. Bye. Thanks again." And she starts walking to the car.

"Thanks for putting up with her, again. She can be a handful," says Ashley, still in place.

"I've noticed." I'm about to close the door but her foot finds the doorframe…

"Ash? You coming?"

"Just a sec," she says over her shoulder before turning back to face me. "Listen, about last night--"

"Hey it's your house, right? You have the right to pick who's allowed to be there. Don't worry about it. Bye." I shut the door forcefully.

Goodbye. Good day. So long, for now. I turn around about to walk to the kitchen when I hear it open behind me. "You should lock your door now. Stay safe," she says from the other side. Ha, some nerve!

**Monday, March 02, 2009 06:23am**

Why can't we stay sweet and innocent forever?! …like, like… like kids! That's it! Like kids and never ever grow-up. I still dream of Peter, you know? Peter who? Pan! Who else?! I still dream of Neverland sometimes. Jesus! This adult thing is so fucked up. We boil over stupid emotions. We care about what people think and let them judge us, so we change to whatever suits their tastes. I hate this!

"So, no work today?" I don't say anything. "What's wrong with you, Danny!!?" Ashley's driving me back to her place. "What did— " "I fell in the hole I dug myself."

"...And now you need a hand getting out. I'm not an excavator shovel, okay?"

"All I need is a shovel. Your pinky will do."

"What you did—" "You don't know a thing about it!"

"What, seeing my cousin cry and pull her hairs out over why you'd cheat on her the way you did, isn't enough?"

"Oh and she didn't cheat on me!?!!?"

"You started it!"

"And that made it right for her to cheat back?! Really mature!"

"I guess not."

"Thank you!" I raise my arms in the air.

Want to know what's been at the top of my to-do list this past year? Staying out of trouble, keeping a low profile, and avoid the 'rents at all costs! Can anyone tell me where to buy a stealth camouflage suit? No…? Then I'll seek Kevin Bacon… I need that Hallow Man thingy...darn!

I'm so stupid when I'm pissed. Have you noticed?! Ahaha. Ok, not a fair enough question. I get it. It's not like you know what's in my head.

Now, where was I—oh, I said TOP of the list right? Top 5? Avoiding the following: Mom, Dad, Kara, Simone, then Mom and Simone…again. Oh ok, bad…that makes 6, _not_ 5. Never mind.

"Ever since your accident, I've been waiting to hit rock bottom 'coz, right now, I feel like I'm free-falling and it sucks. So I need to actually feel an unbearable pain and BAM get it over with!" Then I'll say "ouch" and get up again. Hence, I'm here now. "That's why I went to the party, 'coz I needed that slap…and more. That's why I stood in front of my ex-girlfriend's new girlfriend's house, ready to knock on the door and be bombarded again."

Boy, I must be really depressed, huh? It's more like needy... Needy as when you need t--oh the stupid memory of last month's party at Julie's comes to mind: 14 girls lined up against one of the walls nodding their heads when I ask if that was the line for the restroom. Ugh, I so needed to go! Ended up pissing in a beer bottle in the back garden. Classy, huh? So, now you see what kind of 'need' I'm talking about. Really _really_ biological! I wish. Emotional all the way!

"She really likes Madison, you know. You should back off."

"Blondie said the same thing."

"She gives good advice then."

I need to talk to her. I tried to be bitchy and brush off the break up, but we didn't really talk about things. We yelled for a good 20 minutes, throwing shit around and putting our egos out as much as possible to see who'd bleed the most, but... We never talked. I need her to listen. I don't care if a year passes! I need to let it out.

"I-I need to talk to her, Ash. I need her."

"I doubt she'll be taking you back, Danny."

"I don't mean it like that. I mean, I do...if she took me back I—Never mind. I need her in my life! I want to at least be friends. I miss talking to her. I miss all the crazy stuff we used to do together. I miss you guys..."

"I still think things should stay as they are, Danny. I don't want you to talk shit and then get all emo on her as if it would solve anything. I know your psyche. I won't let you mess with her head again."

"I won't. I'll only ask for 10 minutes. 10! To tie some loose ends and stop with the fake hatred already. I could never hate her. You know it!"

"Do I??" She's looking out for her. I can't blame her.

Why does this feel like the end of the world?! Errr I hate feelings! They crawl in, cling onto you and you say, "Shit! Retard, let goooooo!" But they freaking don't. Freaking leeches!!! Grrrr… I'll kill ya!

You wanna know the worse part? I don't drink, I don't smoke, I don't fuck around, I don't do anything those messed up people do as a biological, natural slash shitty anesthetic. Should I feel lucky? Sad, maybe? I don't know.

"Do u believe in karma?"

"Hm…" " I didn't. Now I do and _shitttttt_ what am I saying!!!? I'm sorry! I'm being totally random now. Is anything making sense? Huh? I don't even know if it's making sense."

"Well, if you—" "Oohh I'm having one of those days, you know... Good girl. Good girl is suffocating. Good girl can't breathe. Good girl wants to scream but nothing comes out. Good girl altogether is not so 'together' anymore. Good girl wants to be bad! Good girl tries to be bad (keyword is TRY). Good girl just…hurts. Good girl hurts!"

You know, that feeling you have as if your life had been planned out for you and you don't have a saying? Sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I learned to chew off the binds. I've always been a fighter, not one you tell what to do. It all started when I was little… I ditched Ballet for Modern Dance when I was 8. Then I chose skydiving over ice-skating at 13. My parents flipped! Needless to say when I started dating Simone I was almost disowned, and the ultimate betrayal came when I chose Art School over Medical.

"Life is...it's....God!!! Argh… It's not even worth talking about it! Oh well, the hell with it! I'm gonna do it anyway… Eerrr NO, I'm _not_!"

"Enough now! Enough! Breathe. Just… Just breathe." I think I've passed Ashley's ranting-tolerance level by now. "I'll talk to her. Try to get her to talk to you, but I'm not promising a miracle." I grin stupidly. That's more than I expected to hear.

We stay quiet for a good 10 minutes. I'm glancing at the clock showing 7:43 a.m., when Ashley says, "She said there was an inconvenient voicemail once—"

"On what basis do you say I 'started it'? I didn't start anything, Ash! Whatever you think you know, you don't. There was someone on my tail back then. I didn't give a damn, though. I only had eyes for _her_!"

"And that there was phone-sex involve—" "I was recording a kinky message. It was that time she was away for a week. She came home early and heard me, moaning and talking dirty while recording _her _a message on her voicemail… which I accidentally deleted right then and there when she 'caught me'."

"Knowing how Simone is, I think something else happened for her to throw you off."

"She didn't tell you?"

"No."

You can freeze a moment in a painting. That's the beauty of art. It doesn't really matter what you do… You can engrave it exactly as it happened, or you can leave some parts out and add a tad more colorful bits and pieces. It doesn't matter what you do. All that matters is you're channeling your emotions through it. Anger. Joy. Pain. And can I say 'regret'? Yes, Regret, the feeling of distress over what you wish could have been different…?

I regret that nanosecond. I wish I could have frozen the grains of sand flowing in the hourglass, however I was out of my element, not wrapped up in my safe zone. I was in the solid 'here & now' back then.

"What happened, Danny?"

Time is irreversible. I've heard that so many times and still I find a flaw in that statement. I totally found a way, a place, to manage it. Manage the chronological and universal order of past-present-future, just like the increase from a four-quarter to a quarter time meter in a musical piece, as the tempo of a song pattern speeds up. As I always say: wishful thinking is always safer. Safer than blunt reality. Where there's Art, there are also Dreams. There's no hint of artistic innovation if one doesn't express a thought, a feeling, a dreamy scene, and there're no dreams without the poetic sounds of screams and murmurs combined with splashes of faint and strong colors; Dreams are my safe zone 'coz they are simply…safer. We control them most times, and when we don't, at least we know they can't kill us solely because they aren't real: we don't bleed, we don't hurt people, we can say awful things, do terrible deeds, yes; but we _can't_ literally hurt anyone. Thank God!

"Kara lunged at me and kissed me. I was caught off guard and, yes, Simone saw us in a _brief_ liplock, but it was just that. I made it stop. I stopped her. If I remember well, I shoved her back so hard that her ass hit the floor. Unfortunately, Mone didn't see it. That stupid kiss didn't mean a thing! I'm not gonna sit here and say the thought of taking advantage of the situation didn't cross my mind - Kara's hot. Who wouldn't want a piece of that? But I didn't act on it. Even though I was pissed at her for cheating on me with Drake, I hoped we could have talked about it and get past it. She never gave me a chance. And if someone's supposed to call it quits, it should have been me!"

Time sets a mark as you make a good opportunity from a bad, unsuitable moment. It's a contrast to the timeless set that's in heaven, immortal plane, higher place…It finites an infinite existence. As for now, it's marking the rate of my outrageous heartbeat as I know, for a fact, that she inconveniently overanalyzed the split nanosecond of a 4-second part, scene, act…pick your choice. The bottom line is: she didn't stick around to see how it ended. But then, when I think about it, _that_ split something-of-a-moment happened. It happened and I can't rewind time. Not here. Not now. Not in the real world where everything matters, where everything is a reminder of its solidity and how bad it can hurt if you happen to fall. And by 'matters' I mean, it's life-altering - it obviously reshaped our relationship and I can't take it back. Can't take it back because it mattered! It mattered 'coz for that nanosecond, we kissed.


	5. Valley of resolutions

**Author's Note:**

_**Tyler – this one is dedicated to you.**_

_**ManicFanFic – thanks for EVERYTHING! U rock! Hope u feel better soon *HUG!!!***_

_**To everyone else – hope u enjoy the update. Sorry for the long wait.**_

**Copyright:**RR09 **Content Rating:**R **Disclaimer:**I do not own SON nor any of its original characters.

"Aim High"

Chapter 4 – Valley of Resolutions

(June 27th , 2009)

"_Dying inside, screaming in silence._

_Remember to breathe. Forget how to cry._

_Remember what angels are. Do something new with your life._

_Stop, sing. Smile, trust._

_Seek, believe._

_Search. Feel._

_Wish on a star."_ by me (piece of 'REBIRTH', a song I composed a while ago)

**Thursday, March 12, 2009 10:46pm**

How do you hide from the monsters that surround you? From the living nightmare you have no control of? The answer is unknown, but of one thing I'm sure: we all want the same. Happiness.

I wish for happiness to take over the thickening unhappiness submersing me.

'Unhappy', 'tormented', 'miserable' are just a few adjectives in my emotional résumé.

Misery keeps me company most week nights. It's a companionship I didn't ask for and I'm oblivious on how to terminate it. I can only get a time-out when I resort to self-medication. It's on nights like these, when I shrug off the cape of forced resentment, that I allow apathy to take over and drive me to shelter. A shelter I once ran away from.

I'm good at kicking myself right in the face!

I say I'm not something to be tamed nor a puzzle to be solved, but when I break down it's my very human shelter I seek, and it's also what I take down to its knees; I discharge dark energy on it cuz I detest it. I learned to hate it cuz I didn't know any better. A few hours ravaging it does wonders until break-time comes to an end, and I finally free fall to _my_ knees…again. Vicious cycle, really.

I look at the world so I don't have to face myself. That works…most of the time. During the day, at work, dealing with people and managing my family's, friends' and acquaintances' drama-filled lives. My nights are a completely different story; it's like walking on the dark side of the moon. So I… I… conjure solace.

*Honkkkkkkkkkkkkkk* Sweet Jesus!! The honk of a passing car goes off scaring the living hell out of me. I stumble aside and hit the pavement. Ow, my elbow!

"No walking in the middle of the street," the stupid person yells at me. He didn't even have the head lights on. Stupid!!

I get up, dust myself off and resume my activity. Brrr cold cold COLD! Transitioning from brisk walking to jogging does very little in raising my core temperature. And _yay_ stupid me for being bare foot… and jacket-less!

Dark grey, white stripe, dark grey, white stripe, dar— I'm tired of counting my steps, so I watch where I step while my internal ranting goes on at the speed of sound.

It's almost 11 o'clock when I round the corner 8 blocks from my house. I'm now making my way up the steep sidewalk as the wind blows against me. A storm is coming. It's going to pour s—A raindrop hits the tip of my nose, followed by another, and another… And it's pouring!

No rain can make me feel more miserable than I'm already feeling. I pretty much feel like a scared little cat at least a night a week, rain or no rain.

I hurry to my destination… and it's not home. I wanna feel better. And I know exactly where to go for that.

I exercise in the mornings. I wouldn't venture running at this hour, for anything less than keeping my sanity… Even if it's just for a little while.

So right now I'm seeking solace. And no, wait, hold that thought… I know it's foolish to think solace makes everything better. It obviously doesn't. Not permanently, anyway. But I like to pretend. If anything can give you a better illusion, that there's a reason to keep living for, aside from what chick flicks tell you, or…or…or stuffing fondue down your throat, why not indulge in it?! Anything that gets the happy hormones kicking for me is very much welcomed!

It's on nights like these when I can't be accountable for my actions. Not that I'm not conscious of them, oh believe me, I am; I just refuse to admit it - it's easier. You'll understand when you see what I'm getting at.

Stepping away from the edge of a sword right into a frying pan is definitely better than—Sigh. It doesn't matter. The end result is the same. I'm sure I'll be mentally slapping myself 1341 times in the morning!

I head for the familiar porch 10 yards ahead. I go up the steps and take the spare key from behind a loose brick near the side window. The moment I make my way in, the lights go out. Ah, great. I still try the switch at the entrance hall, as if by some kind of miracle they'd light up again just for me, and of course they did...not!

Even though I'm perturbed, drenched and scared, the fight-or-flight hormones kick in and I easily run up-stairs and get into the second room to the left. A lightning flash blurs my figure on the wall for a brief second. It almost makes me feel like Jack the Ripper for a moment as I see my prey in sight.

I quickly discard my wet PJ's, onto the floor, in dire need of a heat source.

The soul I seek lays motionless, in bed. She's relaxed, breathing slow and evenly, oblivious to my presence.

I sit next to the body I know so well and crash my lips onto hers. At first I get a panicky grunt and a bite on the lip, which I know were both out of surprise, as the silhouette beneath me tries to push me off. But she soon recognizes my taste, touch and smell, and relaxes back onto the mattress. She pulls off the covers so I can touch her already naked body with my own, and I know I've got her. Her hands pull me closer and I know she'll be mine.

And right now I feel invincible. I'm taking charge and controlling the reins of my life cuz, in the here-and-now, I _can_. I have power. I am facing my fear. Here's where I come on sleepless nights… It's either sleep through the same nightmare over and over again, or distract its intent to torment me. I need peace to take care of myself, therefore I charge full force. As I said, I like to pretend… I know she's letting me, I know she _knows_ I need this, I know she trusts me even though I don't exactly reciprocate the feeling. But I also know she understands it all. How or why is beyond me, she just does, and for that I'm grateful; no, more like relieved.

I assault her neck and "Hm Spencer…" she moans my name. I made her moan my name. _I _have this effect on _her_. Power!

Her scent is so... Nice! So edible. A combination of cinnamon, vanilla and something else... I can't put my finger on it... maybe a hint of mint? She's changed her body-wash gel again. This is new to me... Jesus, she smells so good, it's driving me crazy!

My left hand runs slowly but firmly up her thigh pausing on her hip as I grind into her. "Hmph" she wasn't expecting me to get right to the point... I'm usually more...of a tease.

She's trying to fight me back by pushing me by the shoulders "Spen--" but my lips attack hers again. I want to leave her breathless enough to surrender. I start rocking my body with more purpose; her hands instinctively find a resting place on both the nape of my neck and the small of my back. There! She's hot for me.

Last time I checked I was still a human being and I need air to live. So I breathe and let breathe. She's as breathless as I am, desperately gasping for air and mostly breathing in my own, as both of my hands cup her face to keep it in place.

"Spencer... We..." she's still a little resistant, I hear it in her voice. "First we talk..." she's using her lower body to get me off of her but my thigh makes contact with her clit, causing her to gasp in surprise.

"And where's the fun in that!?" I smile against her lips.

"Let's just..." her hand runs down my arm and I grunt at the unpleasant sting from my elbow. I stop my actions. "You're hurt! Wha--" "It doesn't matter. Now shush and let me _do_ you!"

While one hand roughly pins both her arms above her head, the other slowly circles her achingly wet need. But I don't do anything really. It's only when I feel her hips jerking up in order to increase contact that I know she's giving me full control. She finally surrenders...for good. And I let my hold on her go. I have her at my mercy, so I take her… I take her high. There's nothing romantic about it, nothing careful about it. It's raw. I am _in_ control. She inhales and exhales when I want her to, moans and screams when I fancy her voice… From beginning to end, _I am _the bliss master.

**Friday, March 13, 2009 04:32am**

Green. The clock sits on the nightstand, its glowing green needles telling me I should be asleep.

4:33a.m.

I usually crash around 9. I have to coach the kids in… 3 hours. And I'm beat! I've been training 6 hours a day cuz Coach Picard is pretty much making me push myself lately, and now as if it wasn't enough, I'm feeling the consequences of the… _extra_ exercise I got tonight. Ow. Sore. Sigh.

I can't sleep. I'm motivated not to.

There're these beautiful sounds nature's making outside. Did you know nature is the best composer ever? Its invisible musical tread is as old as the Earth. Or the Universe, or whatever came before it. Point being: it's amazing! And nothing beats it. Nothing. It's unique and untamed. Something untamed is always special, it provides a challenge, and who doesn't love a good challenge? I do, but I'm not a fighter, I just admire its beauty. Don't mess with nature folks. The thunder storm outside is not one to be reckoned with. So… Just enjoy the sounds!

I can't sleep.

I never do…when she's here.

Pearl silk sheets wrap her gently, so gently that it follows the contours and every detail that's hers, with such graciousness; it's like a second skin over the delicate body.

I know she lost herself in her insecurities, again. She's bombarding herself with self-criticism and self-doubt. Her doubts are irrational thoughts. So I gave what she was hoping to find here: comfort. It's what she _always_ comes here for. So I hold her tight and let her know she's safe and okay. Sheis alright.

Being able to feel her warmth, her creamy body pressed against mine, as I smell her scent, and brush my fingers through her hair… Her being here, it's the _real_ motivation to staying awake.

I care for her… more than I should at this point. I care… a lot!

I've never been able to refuse her of anything. Does it make me weak? Maybe. I don't really care what it makes me… all I know is that I can't stop caring! I'm a giver. I care. I shelter people under my umbrella…anyone, everyone. She's no different. Or maybe she is. Cuz she's still my person. And even though she'll never admit it, I know I am hers… She's here, isn't she!?

This is too damn hard. I have to stop, even if it isn't what I really want. I finally get that this isn't about what I want, but what I need. I want her. But I need to stay away. It doesn't mean I'll stop caring, no, of course I'll care… I'll just care at a safe distance. Enough letting her toy with my feelings. This is me finally hopping down from the thin line of defense drawn months ago, which I refused to acknowledge, in order to stand tall on my fortified side of the boarder.

We're…over. There, I finally said it. _I_ did. She's been throwing that in my face for months… Yeah, another thing I refused to acknowledge all this time. She wants nothing more than hook-ups, she made that clear numerous times. So I settled for whatever I could get…until now. Bleakly put, I've been a hook-up _and_ a comforter. Bluntly? No more than a friendly booty-call.

Here she lies. In my bed. My…mistress. The beautiful girl that has my heart and steps on it, repeatedly. I'm not going to lie – it hurts! I bled internally for her, I took the pain the more I could, but now I've reached my limit. Everyone and everything has a limit, you know? My muted screams need an out. I'm Carmen Garcia and I'm _not_ a puppet!

My index finger traces the barely visible scar on her shoulder blade. A scar that belongs to me as much as it belongs to her. A wound that scarred me too. It sits exactly in the middle of my life pump. An ugly scar that'll forever be a reminder of the idiotic turmoil that rose between us, 7 months ago…

**Wednesday, August 27, 2008 03:11pm**

"Yes, Carmen, keep smirking like a fool" Glen says as he struggles to put the keys in the lock.

I slap his shoulder unable to hide my excitement "Shut up, fool!!"

"We're finally home! Dad! Baby Sis! Big Bro!" he shouts storming into the Carlin residence. He drops his bags in the living room and runs upstairs.

I go to the kitchen and help myself to a bottle of water from the fridge. I hear a sniffle from behind the counter as I sip the liquid. Two steps around the marble barrier and then I see her… Red-eyed, pale and broken.

"Spencer!" I crouch next to her. "What's wrong, Babe?" I try to put my arms around her but…

"Fuck you!!" She stands abruptly.

"Spenc…" "! Don't freaking touch me. I hate you!" What's going on?

"What's wrong? I don't underst…" "It's you! All your fault!" I blink rapidly in astonishment. She storms out of the kitchen and runs upstairs, while Clay and Glen walk down. The blonde boy tries to hug her but she brushes him off.

"Guys!! What's wrong??" Nothing good from the look on their faces.

"Carmen…" Clay pauses in mid-sentence.

"Clay? Tell me! NOW!" I was determined to go after her and make it all better… no matter what it was. Only I wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. I wasn't ready, nor did I know how to make it better for her…or any of them.

Clay swallowed hard before whispering, "Dad died."

**Friday, March 13, 2009 04:59am**

The thunder storm has quieted down. The lights are back on… I can see a clear line of light coming from underneath the bathroom door; she must have forgotten to turn it off again. And I know her eyes are burning a hole in my shoulder as usual. I know she's awake cuz her breathing is different. I feel her gaze on me, her breath on the back of my neck, her legs entangled with mine…

I shift slightly to let her know I'm awake and I feel her backing up to give me room to turn onto my back.

"Hi." She says. Her head rests on her hand as her bent elbow keeps it slightly up. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks for… you know," she doesn't say anything and remains motionless as she stares down at me. "I better get going." Classic! It's the same thing over and over: we have a power dance and then I just leave; head down in shame.

"Spence, wait." My ex-girlfriend stops me from getting up. "Please. We need to talk…"

"_We…_"Ipoint out between the both of us "… don't need anything."

"Fine. _I_ need to talk to you."

"Okay," I reply automatically as if it was the easiest thing in the world to have a heart-to-heart with an ex. Yes, I knew what was coming… I've never given the time to talk about us cuz I always manage to run and avoid the conversation. Not this time, though. The second I let her keep me in place is also the second she takes the window of opportunity to corner me. I'm so doubling-up the mental slapping on my walk home… And it's going to be _very _unpleasant. If only regret could kill, ugh.

"I know you don't wanna hear this…" "I'm sure I don't!" I cut her off and now she's staring me down, sternly. Sigh. Fine! "Please, go on." I say politely.

"I know you don't wanna hear this but I have to know what happened, Spencer!" She's still staring at me but I don't meet her gaze. I can't. "This…" she pauses briefly to point in-between the both of us "…is _not_ fair!"

"Since when was the world fair, Carmen?" Yep, sarcasm is often my way around a subject. Only she knows me too damn well! She wasn't going to let me brush it off that easily _this_ time!

She thinks the first domino piece, that set the beginning of the end for us, was her taking my place on the Olympic swim team. Glen mentioned it. She's never told me this, though; we've never had this conversation before. It never bothered me…

"When Coach called me on the team I was ecstatic…" See? There she goes.

"Oh, I bet you were!" Dammit that shouldn't have slipped out! Okay, I lied 5 seconds ago. At first it bothered me, for like…a minute. Anchoring onto the most rational level imbedded in the irrational non-sense that my mind drifts in, I know it shouldn't have felt like a big deal. But I can't deny I was a tad bit jealous. I was numero Uno, but some idiot decided to play 'V for Vendetta' on me and I didn't make it to the Olympics… Carmen did. I know what you're thinking 'why wouldn't you want your girlfriend to excel?' I did. Honest. I was just angry at the mess I got myself into, and seeing my career slip right through my fingers by a bullet to the shoulder was despairing. When she took the offer, I felt betrayed… she's my girlfriend, she was supposed to stay beside me in times of need. That's what couples do, right? Right?

"I wanted to win for YOU! That medal is as much mine as it is yours, Spencer. I won it cuz you were the only thought in my mind through the whole experience. I won it _for_ and _because_ of you!" She won the Women's 400m Freestyle, on August 11th. "That Monday was one of the happiest days of my life! I'd won my first Olympic medal and when I got back I find that my girlf—Well…You hate me." I stare into her eyes for the first time since the beginning of this conversation. "I didn't think it was possible for chaos to erupt in the short span of a month…especially because there was no real reason to it…" the last part comes out as a whisper.

"You left me by myself."

"You had everyone pampering you, Spencer. You had so many visitors supporting you that I had to almost kick everyone out of that hospital room. I had to fight people off just to be able to see you cuz you'd feel so tired by the time they left, that I'd just stare at you laying there like Briar freaking Rose!

"I…" "You wouldn't even ask for me. And then, when I get the opportunity of a life-time, you grow a second head that I didn't even know was there until _after_ my arrival. You could have told me not to go in the first place."

"I…" "What about Glen huh? Why don't you hate him, too??! We went together. What did I do wrong, Spencer?"

I bow my head as her cold penetrating eyes become too much for me to handle.

"You say you don't need me but here I am _saving_ you again, tonight."

"Ah now yo—" "What happened to us?"

" I--" "And stop blaming me for everything, Spence, it takes two people to make or break a relationship!"

"I don't…know."

"I'll tell you what I think… I know how your head works… Your doubts and fears crept in! I didn't wanna replace you, Spencer. We're on the same team, we weren't competitors, and I loved you. I...still…do. I love you! And you know this. You know too well, cuz you take advantage of it!

"What the hell are you talking about?" I play clueless.

"You take advantage of me. You're hot one minute, then freaking cold the next! You want nothing to do with me one day and on the next you just show up, out of the blue, to get yourself off. That's what you make it seem like. I might be _just_ a fuck buddy to you, but to me you're more than that, Spencer. You're the girl I love. You're the girl I want. You're the girl I _make_ love to, _not_ fuck! You're the girl I want to make happy, but it's obvious we're not on the same track. God, you kiss with your eyes open! Who the hell does that when expressing their love!? I am to blame, though. I can only blame myself for letting this get as far as it did, but now it's over, Spence."

"Damn right, it's over. It's been over for a long time!" I play bitchy. We've had this conversation before…only in my head. "I told you months ago!"

"Yes you did. But I don't think you took your own words seriously, otherwise you wouldn't end up in my apartment 23 times!"

"You're counting?!!!!"

"What? Does the number scare you, Spence? Yes! 23 times… Actually, 24 including tonight. And for 24 times, I let myself get hurt hoping I could get you back, or hoping you'd come around and want _me_ back. So much for comforting you. Who ends up comforting ME, huh? WHO? Tell me who??" I don't say anything. "The only good thing I get out of this is knowing you're hooking up with me instead of random shanks that get _around_. God knows the number of diseases you'd be infected with."

"I'm no whore, okay!"

"Oh I know you aren't, you just think you've got yourself one! I can't do this with you anymore."

"Okay."

"Okay."

We've never had this conversation before cuz it's always been very hard to translate emotions into words. But she deserves more from me today. She deserves an effort on my part. So I try… "I've been a horrible person to you, Carmen. I'm sorry."

"Thank you for finally admitting to it."

"I chose to hate you. Not _hate you_ hate you, I could never really hate you."

"I know."

"I still have the nightmares," the ones where the dark shadowy figure shoots me and shape shifts into her!

"I know. What else would have brought you here then?!"

"I hated you for not realizing how big of a deal the scandal was for me – I practically dug a hole for my own burial – and you let me!"

"It was your decision, Spencer!"

"I know. But I still hated you for allowing me to take action on something that could have ruined my reputation for good, but okay… it's all my fault. I hated you for not insisting I'd stay in, with you on this bed, the morning I got shot.

"Don't you think I blame mys—" "Carmen, please, let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Then, when I was in recovery, I hated you for excelling when I couldn't. I hated you for being away right when my dad died and, for his death even. Because if you hadn't let me put myself in scandal-way, I wouldn't have been shot and Dad wouldn't have played detective and gotten himself killed. And I hated the world when that killer bastard killed himself!" Carmen wasn't to blame. She didn't pull the trigger both times. No one was to blame. Phil Stiller was. But it was easier to throw it all at her. "I hated you for being the perfect girlfriend that I took for granted before all of that happened. I hated you for letting me be as you busied yourself with your career."

"Spen—" "Yes, there was nothing more you could have done after the way I bitched at you. But still, I hated you for staying away when I told you to. And I hate you for how much you love me even though I've treated you like crap, ever since."

"I don't have control over anyone else's feelings or actions except my own, Spence. I really wish I could make it better but it's beyond me." She paused to take my hand in hers. "I love you, but I'm n--" "Not wasting your heart, and giving away your body in a situation that only leaves you with scraps when what you really deserve is a whole, loving relationship." I get it. It's only fair.

We stay quiet for a good five minutes, staring at each other. She's brushing her thumb over my knuckles and the silence from outside is just making the whole scene awkward.

"You're not helping, u know…" I say, scooting closer to her.

"What?!" she asks confusedly. I'm in her personal space now.

"You're getting me all _hot_, I want you agai—" "Don't you dare touch me, Carlin!!" she jumps up from the bed. She knows I was kidding and we both laugh at my attempt to lighten the mood.

"I don't know about you but I could use a half hour of sleep," she tells me.

"Me too," I get back under the covers and she follows my cue.

Another couple of minutes pass but I know she's not asleep yet. "You'll still go by the gym to coach, right?" I ask.

"Of course. But…!"

"What?"

She reaches for something inside the drawer of her nightstand. "Promise me you'll book a session," I take the business-card she presents me with. It's to a psychologist. "You need to deal with your _issues_ for good. He'll help you."

"You gave me one of these already."

"I know. Take it! Just in case you threw the first one away."

"Thanks. I'll call doctor…" I look at the card "…Conran and arrange a session on my day off."

"I hope you really do it _this _time!"

"I will. We can still talk sometime, right? Like…friends?"

"Spencer… I never stopped being your friend, nor have I stopped caring about you, silly. We've just redefined ground rules. No romantic relationship, no sex…or… blast from the past! We can do everything friends _without_ benefits do."

"I'm sure we can."

**Friday, March 13, 2009 07:22am**

"I'm really happy you're home, Mom," I give my mother a kiss on the cheek and take a seat beside her at the island in the kitchen.

"I'm happy as well," she flashes me that beautiful smile that I love before sipping on her cup of coffee.

I help myself to some cereal…dry. No milk, no sugar. Yeah, I'm weird like that.

She's reading some magazine. "Interesting article?" I ask.

"Somewhat," her eyes remain glued to the page, her glasses balance on the bridge of her nose and the way she's circling the rim of the cup tells me she's about to bring something up.

"About relationships?" I ask. "Relationships." She says almost simultaneously.

I scoot closer so I'm able to read the title. _"Fabricated Reasons for Unhappiness" by Dr. Peter_. I roll my eyes. Mom gives too much thought to this guy's analysis. His stuff's published weekly on _Olivia_ magazine.

"When was the last time you went out on a date?" she asks me.

"It's been…awhile."

"Ashley!" her expression is of complete shock. "Get yourself out there!!"

"Mom, please it's really early and I don't need to hear this from you right now." I'm tired of these conversations. Everyone's on my foot lately.

"Well, _excuse me_ if I seem to care so much about my daughter's happiness!" I roll my eyes.

"Okay, get it off your chest for the day…"

"You went on a self rampage, Ashley!" we both say. Yes, I was expecting it! That line _never_ changes. "ASHLEY!!" she's raising her voice now. Uh-oh! Do not piss off Chris A. Davies, folks! I gesture zipping my lips closed, indicating surrender. The sooner she gets it out, the sooner I'll leave. "I am your mother and I saw you break and fall apart. You were a vibrant young lady and now you're just a doll in a box. You had so much potential! But now… you keep sabotaging your future, Ash." Huh?

This is new! "What do you mean?!!"

"You have to give your heart another chance and embrace your talent, honey." Oh for Christ's sake she's Simone version (- 2.0)! "Don't hide from it. It's yours. It's you! You can't push it away cuz IT _is_ you! Give into your passion and be happy. You deserve to BE happy!"

"I _am_ happy Mom. I have the most amazing family I could have asked for… I have you! I'm happy and I'm where I want to be!"

"You were dating a wonderful guy and your relationship was progressing nicely. He had so many qualities and you actually saw a future with him. I saw your eyes sparkling when you told me 'Mom, he's a keeper!'… I was so happy for you, honey."

"And I was happy for as long as it lasted." I admit. "That's in the past, though. Please let's not go there, Mom."

"Okay. I was just reminding you of how—" "Happy I was, yes, I know, thanks for reminding me." I'm trying to get past the obvious.

"Now, you find flaws in every prospect of a boyfriend that comes around. You're scared and you push everyone away."

"That's not true!"

"Oh, really!? Langton…?" "Too perfect. Impeccable teeth, dress code, manners… I don't believe in 'perfection'."

"Ashton?" "A human version of a Greek god… but no, thank you. Looks can be deceiving. Besides, Ashley and Ashton… Ash & Ash… c'mon! Too weird!"

"Dominic?" "Money makes him do crazy things like buying me jewelry, and the Porsche officially did it for me! I couldn't take it anymore. I'm in no need of materialistic things." It's true, I have everything money can buy.

"See!!?"

"What?" They're all very different from one another, no pattern there!"

"You're wrong. They were all very much in love with you and willing to make you happy. Were you not happy?"

"I was. It's just that…" I pause mid-sentence and sigh deeply.

"Doctor Peter is right! This article right here…" she's almost drilling a hole on the page with her index finger "…says exactly what you've been doing. You're sabotaging your relationships." My mother says so matter-of-factly. First I had to hear all about Dr. Phil and Oprah. Now I get a different expert's advice channeled through my mother. "You cut the leash early to avoid attachment. You don't trust anyone, Ashley, that's the problem. You think you're broken…and you _are_, but that can only last for as long as you're willing to let it. No one can mend you but yourself. You need to allow yourself to heal first and, when you do, it'll be much easier to breathe. You NEED to breathe!

"I try."

"Stereotyping everyone to _his_ image is unfair. All those young men aren't to blame, Ashley, your ex is. The ex-factor plays a huge part in how you are right now!"

"Sometimes I feel like it was yesterday… He broke me, Mom."

"I know, Honey. But… Learn to forgive so you can forget."

Oh no she didn't just say _that! _"What is this? Simone said the _exact_ same thing!!"

"Good! So now you know… Your insecurities and fears have a source."

"Oh, and that's new!?" I let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Of course not. The question is: Will you let it keep overpowering you…or will you regain control of your life?"

"Good morning!" Elly walks in through the backdoor.

I fake being in deep thought before jumping from my seat. "Good talk, Mom. I'll get into that with my therapist."

"If men aren't working for you, try flashing your lights to women," o-kay…I was definitely _not_ expecting that at this point. "G'morning Elly," Mom acknowledges my friend. "How have you been? We haven't had the chance to talk since the Ball. My nephew looks radiant these past few days. I assume it has to do with you!" she says winking at her.

"I don't know about that, but we've been…talking."

"And hanging out together 24/7!" I say and she blushes. "Aww… No need to go 'tomato' on us, we all know you two scream 'forever!'"

"I agree. You're good for him," says Mom. "Breakfast?"

"No, thank you, Mrs. Davi—Christine. Ashley and I have to get going now," she takes my hand.

"Off to the airfield?" Tomorrow's Friday. I'm going to help set things up for the race. Simone's already there.

"As usual." I say following my friend to the door.

"Oh, before I forget…" I stop by the exit. "Beaumont's secretary called for you, yesterday."

"Yeah?"

"Something about your request being granted?"

"Oh, okay, Mom. Thanks. Talk to you later," I give her a kiss goodbye.

"Love you."

"You too!" and I'm off.


	6. Shocks and aftershocks

"Aim High"

Chapter 5 – Shocks and aftershocks

(February 1st, 2010)

A/N #1: Was not beta-read. Apologies.

A/N #2: Please note at the beginning of this chapter:

ASHLEY – normal text, **SPENCER – bolded text**, _ASH&SPENCE - italics_

_~*~*~*~_

_They say death is a moment._ **To me it's quite a fair period of time, not just A moment.**

How can so many thoughts, memories and feelings go through your mind in...a moment? Only a moment?

**A second is a moment. But not MY 'moment'.** A period in MY time is more than a second, it's a second times X, where X is greater than 1. Yes, I have come up with my very own equation of Death. An equation which result gave me an infinite set.

_I'm sure I died that day, I did, but…_ my existence is infinite.

**In what everyone calls 'moment'** _I was alive!_ Call it parallel universe, heaven, dream - I WAS alive. _I went there and came back, therefore it wasn't ''a moment'', it was_… **a shift of energy, a journey from a plain to another…** _as if my essence had its own survival instinct of fight-or-flight only they're the same. _The result is the same_. Life! The choice is always Life!_

**Monday, March 16, 2009 08:23am**

"I died." I know how this sounds…

"Obviously you didn't, we're both right here." No one took me seriously so far, why should I expect her to. Typical.

It doesn't matter how Doctor Conran is looking at me coldly, emotionless…psychoanalyzing me, as expected - she's the shrink after all. It doesn't matter that this is my third session and all I've been able to talk about is Death. It doesn't matter that I don't exactly _talk to_ her about it, but to myself, in my head… endless internal monologues. It doesn't matter that for a total of 144 minutes I sat here and pretended talking to her about… Death.

What's important is I finally used my voice directed _to her_ just now. What matters is what I know… and what I know is that the choice is always Life, even though life's all about death; cuz life's all about avoiding death. Life runs away from, death chases after. Now seriously, just picture it, have you ever seen the Grim Reaper run away from something very much alive? That'd be a first.

"I died but I was still... _existing_. I couldn't see but I was still thinking, feeling..." I have a theory. I bet I could see but couldn't acknowledge things as I used to. The brain looks for shapes in things; it tends to do that to create recognizable patterns that give you info on a familiar scene. It chose to show me black and white…either pitch black or bright white.

"You were in a coma, Spencer; your subconscious was active even though your body wasn't. It's normal to have vivid dreams."

I died. There's life after death. I'm living proof of it. Death is just a word stating the moment when your subconscious becomes your conscious, their roles are reversed and all of a sudden everything's as clear as ever. Imagine your conscious mind being the outer layer, an opaque filter...the clear bright thoughts of the subconscious could never come to the surface without distortion and fuzziness, before. When I died, I could feel all that I am...completely. No doubts, no auto-criticism, no fear. And I felt lighter; all I could think about was of how I could finally breathe.

"I felt _alive _then. I can't say I feel like that now."

"What do you mean?"

"I feel suffocated."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I have trouble sleeping. I'm not exactly sure why or what keeps me from doing it. I don't know how to…explain it."

"How often do you struggle with this?"

"Every other day."

"Last night?"

"Yes."

"Describe me your feelings around bedtime, last night."

"I was getting ready for bed…"

**Sunday, March 15, 2009 10:14pm (10 hours earlier)**

*Gargle* *Gargle gargle* *GarrrRrrrrglEeeeee* Extra-minty mouthwash. God, this stings! I glance at my wristwatch… 16, 17…30! *Phew* I spit it out, I couldn't hold it anymore, this stuff is strong.

Blonde hair frames my face as I stare at myself through the mirror. I look into blue eyes and, in that moment, I know I am done pretending. I am done pretending to pretend. I am done pretending to pretend I believe in the unpreventable. I am tired of wishing things were different. I spend some days wishing I could have prevented the unpreventable and on other days, when I get tired of the routine, I busy myself pretending to. So as from now, I stop.

I turn around and lean against the washbasin. The brightness of the tiles obfuscate my senses, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath. At first, I try to focus in nothing in particular, then in my breathing, and after that I try my best to zone out, clear my head and just block out the thoughts.

I fail.

There is silence but the words have never been so loud; I try to mute them but I'm stuck reading the invisible writings on the wall…the wall in the back of my mind, the same wall that nests the thoughts that keep me awake night after night. And it's as if I sleep awake lately… I fall in some sort of trance, dream, or maybe I simply zone out and those thoughts suck me dry until there's nothing left… and then I die, I see emptiness, and at some point I'm reborn.

I'm haunted by unsorted reasoning that can't be grasped. Thoughts I don't understand, and I start thinking they're not my own. No matter how hard I try to hide, I run out of space to dodge'em since they always find me; they're part of me and that's why I can't fight said thoughts.

I breathe deep knowing that I'm about to sleep today's disaster away, and hopefully all that'll be left tomorrow are smoke and ashes for fading memories. I push myself off towards the bathroom's door, switch the lights off, and walk over the windows to close the blinds. I take a step back and stumble on the book stack on the floor, besides the armchair. This happens often, it's quite predictable but I let myself stumble anyway so I can feel pain… the pain that reminds me the way is forward with eyes wide open.

I don't want to run, so I don't. But I do elope in search of the highest branch at the top of the purple-tree, in hopes the thunder roars, hovering above it, overlap the echoes within me. I take sleeping pills now that Carmen's time as my happy-tree has come to an end, so I can't self medicate as I used to, for obvious reasons. These pills make my mind run wild for a short while and then everything calms down immensely. Purple-tree usually works, but it can become addictive and make one feel really depressed. Fortunately, it seems to affect me when I wake-up…by mid-day there're no traces of the side-effect.

I was clinically depressed once. It took all I had to get out of it and I don't intend to fall back into that again. That's why I drive away my pains and dodge a double-edged feeling by living a lie that I despise, but have to embrace if I want to survive. I should never back down.

As I finally get into bed, I listen to shouts in my head from the safety fence, as they get closer and closer, and we battle it out until I feel the crack of bone against bone. Who said thoughts were harmless?! They freaking hurt! They burn as an innocent flaming tattoo that is soon spreading like a wildfire. They run like a blade cutting through skin until the hot pain grows numb and cold. Then the white flag waves in the air… The time has come to pacify the battle and feed me sleep, so my mind quiets down for a bit. And this is it… This is peace.

**Monday, March 16, 2009 08:36am**

"…Spencer?... SpenCER!!" Dr Conran is snapping her fingers in front of me.

"Huh? Wha?" I guess I zoned out. "Sorry."

"What were your feelings last night?"

"Hm… Despair. Urge to survive, maybe." It came out more like a question. I get up and walk to the bottom to top windows behind me. She doesn't say anything. "When I did fall asleep I found myself struggling in my dream…" I stare at my partial reflection on the glass. "As I kept on trying to avenge my father, I was constantly distracted by some…force."

"Force?"

"A Feeling!" I glance over my shoulder to look at her for a second as I stress… "Some feeling that detours me and is such a sharp emotion that I can't do anything else but hunt the source." It just drives me so mad that I need to get to it even if it means my doom. "It's a nightmare! At some point I end up incapacitated…" a wave of dark smoke crashes over me and when it clears out I see myself with lifeless eyes "… and it's my heartbeat that gives my still existence away." And when I wake up, I'm faced with my living self again as I look at my reflection in the mirror, wondering how I got there, what's in store for me, which path to walk on and where it shall lead. "I wish I didn't dream."

"Yet, you do. Everyone dreams every night, and everyone dreams for about 100 minutes and has several separate dreams during a normal sleep cycle. Maybe this is why there's a shift in your focused state. Maybe what you're able to remember is a mix of fragments of many dreams you had."

"Isn't there anything you can prescribe to make me NOT dream?"

"Unfortunately, no. Some think dreams are of great help…if people didn't dream, they would suffer from mental breakdowns or illness. Dreams may even keep people sane" in my case, close to insane. Ugh. Help?

I walk back to the couch and sit on the armrest. "I need you to help me with it."

"Sanity?" "Yes! Please."

"But I believe you _are_ sane. It's your quest for that 'something', 'feeling', 'someone' that's drawing energy out of you."

"I've heard of hypnotherapy. Can we do that?"

"My wife happens to be a specialist in hypnotherapy, I can ask her to participate in our session, next time."

"What should I expect?"

"She will induce a relaxed state of mind. You will use your imagination while she helps you tap into your subconscious mind. It's quite similar to how guided imagery works."

"Painless?"

"Absolutely."

**Monday, March 16, 2009 09:04am **

**Car honks.**

A swarm of human ants walk in a frenzy.

Intoxicating gas fumes linger in the air.

Dozens of eyes carve the sidewalk as an equal set of feet march hurryingly.

The buzz of LA at its peak. For now.

I'm following the human flow on the concrete flooring. There seems to be an invisible detour sign 15 feet ahead. If we were water particles in a river, we'd be going around a rock, a trunk, a… "Oh great!" I say as I stop right in front of the obstacle-s. Plural. A couple is standing in the middle of a busy street, making out and totally ignoring me! How rude! "PDA people! Get a room!" and I flow around and away. I hate love birds, they act all...royal, as if they're superior. The world stops cuz they think they're special and invincible. It's annoying and disgusting. Those two should _really_ get a room!

Bump.

Bump.

And another bump in the shoulder. "Watch it morons, this is a double Frappuchino in my hand!" I spit internally, cursing myself for telling Simon I didn't need a lift. I took the subway and I'm now walking the three blocks separ… Bump. Bump. "Watch the clothes, man!" I actually say it out loud this time. The stupid guy didn't even look back. "What gives!? Ugh!" I look up to the sky and the anger is instantly gone. A smirk crawls on my lips. The sky is clear, baby blue, perfect!

As I start walking down the penultimate block, I am greeted by Mr. Priotti, the guitarshop owner, waving at me from the shop's door "Ashley! Ashley! Good day" I stopped by the shop a few weeks ago, to check out its inventory, and made a new acquaintance.

"Good day. How are you?"

"Fine, fine, thank you" he speaks quite rapidly and the the Italian accent to the mix, makes it all funny. "Please, please, come in. I have something to show you…I think the new acquisition will please you."

I stop momentarily. "Oh, I can't right now, I'm sorry…" I check my watch "…I have an appointment in 15 minutes." Awww he looks all broken now. "But, I promise to stop by afterwards."

"Alright. See you later, Ashley." I give him a small nod in agreement and get moving once again.

Mr. Priotti is such a sweet man. I'm not exactly sure of his age but he seems to be in his 50's already. His hairstyle and mustache reminds me of the 1970's, and his surprisingly lean for a 'chocoholic' as he's said himself…not to mention all the pasta he eats. Yummy.

*Bark* I step aside. Woah, now this is a funny sight. A chihuahua is tied to a park meter pole. *Bark barkBARKbark* *rawrrrrrrrrrrr* *Bark* Oh, come Onnnnn! Lil man thinks he's bigger than he actually is. The only thing big are its eyes… so disproportionate. I never liked these dogs. They're freaky.

There's so much noise. The more I walk, the more it intensifies. There must be some construction work going on. Forty, fifty yards covered, and I get my confirmation: a road repair crew is working across the street; across the building I'm supposed to be in. I stop and take moment to appreciate those...attributes. Five shirtless guys, just so you know. Ouuu… Yeloo sexy, sweaty, men in…uh…underwear. Ha, I wish! Work those muscles guys, work those muscles…

**I realize I better hurry inside, there are only 2 minutes left, so I tur- "**Ow!!!" my nose! I can't believe I've just been head butt. Damn, is that forehead of steel, or what!? Luckily my coffee didn't spill on me...but it did on my aggressor's jacket. Ha-ah! Karma's a bitch! Ah! God, dammit... "Wo-oooh-woah!" I trip backwards and land on my behind. Ugh, great. What's next… earthquake?

"Are you alright, Miss?" the doorman crouches next to me with genuine concern.

I don't answer him, my eyes are on the Adidas sneakers and jeans clad legs in front of me. My eyes drift up desperate to give the shoes a face, but all I see is my reflection on the dark tint windscreen of the helmet the person's wearing. He's just standing there, staring down at me... "What? Aren't you going to help me up?" we're having a staring contest, I can't see being the windscreen but I know it! He doesn't move an inch. "I guess not!" I'm really annoyed here.

"Here, I'll help you, Miss" the doorman catches my attention again, and I use his knee and forearm for support, my back slightly facing my aggressor. "Thank you... Marcus" I take a second to read his nametag. "Good to know there's still an alpha male out here!" I say sarcastically with a stern look on my face as I turn to face my Adidas which...which is not where he was just 3 seconds ago.

I hear an engine come to life 6 feet from me and he just drives off. Okay, did this _just_ happen!? No apology, no sympathetic gesture, _not_ a word! Unbelievable!

What did I learn from this experience?

1) Adidas is rude.

2) Adidas drives a red Aprilia, and I have to say 'Wow!', but whatever…

3) Adidas is...Did I say 'rude' already?

Look at me now… FML!

**Monday, March 16, 2009 09:44am**

"You're late today…" 14 minutes late, I know "…and you're never late" she catches the broad coffee stain on my shirt. "I'm not going to ask, just make the most out of the 45 minutes you have left. This is session number..." she looks down at my file.

"Eight. Three weeks."

"Yes. Three weeks and we've covered quite a bit about..." she's reading my file again "...your passions, your family...and your family and your passions, again. All good things. Happy things, mostly. Your expositions revolve around your comfort zone. You still haven't told me why you're really here. Certainly, if you keep coming here behaving as if you were just randomly catching up with an old friend, it'll all be a big waste of time and money."

"I was wondering when you're gonna put me in the hot seat..."

"I understand it's not that simple, but keep in mind that 'Rome wasn't built in a day'. Step away from your comfort zone, slowly, one step at a time. All I need is that you start walking so I can do my job." Yeah, Beaumont was right, I was stalling.

"Okay."

"According to your file…" I think she catches my inquiringly look wondering what file that would be "…Doctor Nill was kind enough to mail me your file from 6 months ago." Oh that! "According to your file it seems that you're very insecure…"

I was never the type to swear doing whatever it takes to make a guy love me forever, nor was I self-conscious and self-doubtful enough to act in accordance to what my boyfriend looked for in a woman just so I'd keep him, please him; much less one to play hypothetical scenes in my head over and over to figure what I'd do if he ever left me. I didn't worry about that stuff, I didn't have a reason to, if anything I was very confident and sure of myself. I _was_ all that before Sony. And the accident. I never had insecurity issues before that.

"Yes, I believe that is absolutely correct" I admit, emotionless. The first step is always the hardest, isn't it? The breaking off of a denial-spell is my said first, then.

"I gather you didn't make much progress with overcoming it…"

"I wanted to. I _want_ to!" I say readily. I'm surprised by all the conviction escaping my lips.

"That's great. Everyone can learn to overcome them. For good."

"All it takes is a shift in attitude, work in doing things that makes me grow confident, believe in myself and what I can do for myself as well as others…" Mom bombards me with this everyday as if I'd change by osmosis.

"How many times did you hear this from Doctor Nill?"

"From him – two. From my mother – only 204 times" I giggle and she does the same.

"They both happen to be right. It's much simpler than you think. An attitude adjustment can change your life for the better in a fair short period of time."

"I tried that already. I don't think I made the right approach to 'adjusting', though." I'm fidgeting with my fingers now. My hand rests on my lap, palms facing up.

"There was an accident. Was that your way to call for attention?" "NO!" my eyes dart up to pierce his. "Why does everyone think that!!? God!"

"Alright, alright. I read his notes, you said the same previously, but I had to ask."

"Whatever."

"I take it you're 'dying' to get up in the sky?" is was more a statement than a question. Hm wait…did she just use air quotes?!

"You can't begin to imagine how much. I have to get better first, my ankle is still busted."

"And what's your motivation really?"

"Da Vinci." I state simply, a coy smile on my face.

"…Code??" she frowns, looking seriously confuse.

"No. Leonardo da Vinci…" "What about him?" anxious much?

"He has a saying that tells it much better than I could ever explain. He said '_When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return'_, and that pretty much sums it up for me."

"I see…" I think she's writing that down on the notepad. Good. At least I know these meetings are educational for the both of us. "Now, lets get to the heart of the matter, Ashley; why are you here?"

"Cuz everyone says I need to let go of the past."

"Is that what you think you need? Is that what you want?"

"I guess."

"Guess?"

"No. Want. I want to let go from the past. And I don't want to feel insecure anymore."

"This journey can be as long or short as you want it, depending on your effort. Let's not romanticize this… it can be one of the hardest things you'll ever do, and you should know that before you delve into letting go of your past, however, you may need to face your memories and experiences. You should honor them, relive them, go back and talk to the people involved, share your feelings and make yourself vulnerable for a minute, listen to their points of view, put your pride aside. If you're dealing with your mistakes, you'll certainly have to accept responsibility for your actions. If you're dealing with someone else's then you should learn to forgive them."

So that means I should face my…the guy that got Mom pregnant? Face Sony? Wander at the crash site, at my almost grave…the place tainted with blood not only mine?

"Letting go of your past requires effort and energy, but your own strength and courage will kick in. You'll not only survive, you'll be wiser, more peaceful, and more centered than before if you learn to let go of your past…" "I was pregnant." I cut her off.

"You lost it" I nodded as I began to fidget my fingers. "The accident?"

"Yes. I was 9 weeks in."

"Anything else we should include in this journey?"

"I dislike my…Father. He abandoned his family when I was a little kid. I found out my ex-fiancé, the father of my dead child, was only with me cuz he worked for my Father. He was a con-man. I felt betrayed in every level. I was used and now I don't trust my judgment anymore."

"And you were obviously in love with this man. When did you find out he had ulterior motives?"

"Less than a week before the accident."

"Had you two discussed about the baby?"

"Yes. We were thrilled about it. At least _I was_. I can't tell if anything about him was genuine anymore. For obvious reasons."

"Tell me…how do you feel about your past actions? Is there anything you could have done differently?"

"No. I don't know." I pause and sigh. "Maybe."

"Which one is it then?" I don't say anything. "Ashley, it's very important that you know you did the best you could. Consciously or unconsciously, you were as good, loving, and effective as you could have been back then. There's nothing you could have done differently because that's who you were and that's what you knew then. It's done. Let go."

"Only my uncle knows that I lost the baby, and that's because the doctors told him. I made him promise not to tell anyone, not even my mother. I was ashamed for letting my Ex fool me, get me pregnant and, above all, for hooping on that plane that day. I wish someone would have had stopped me!"

"This is not healthy. Mulling over on what you could've or should've done is ineffective and bad for you. Try to forgive yourself for your mistakes. When you find yourself dwelling or obsessing over the past or the person you lost, gently draw your thoughts back to the present. Let go of your obsession, whether it's a relationship gone bad or lost child. Be kind to yourself… this is very important to the healing process. Once you heal you'll move on, your wounds will slowly close up and you'll find it much easier to deal with a faint scar than an open wound."

Will I? "I had a transplant. Both my lungs were punctured. Doctors managed to repair a great deal of the left one, but the right was damaged beyond repair. Since then I feel…strange. I have panic attacks. And other times I feel as if I'm not myself."

"Post-traumatic stress, most likely. I find it odd that Dr. Nill didn't catch it."

"I don't think I've ever discussed this with him. It doesn't happen very often. I mean, it didn't use to. But in the last couple of weeks it has."

"It is possible that a particular event could have triggered it. Did anything out of the ordinary happen in the last two weeks?"

"No. I don't think so. I injured myself…that's the only thing I can think of, right now."

In the 10 minutes remaining, Beaumont didn't deviate from the usual advices… That it would help if I made new friends and show interest in their lives, vent and share my pain and sadness, try new hobbies, change environments…look in new directions in every level of my life. She stressed how important it is to complete myself by keeping my life busy and full with the things that I love. Apparently, identifying the cause of my insecurity is not nearly as important as learning how to overcome it. By focusing on my own happiness I can accomplish great things. Wish there was formula to go with this…

I believe Life is qualified by the people in it: who just came into it, who left, who you wish was part of it and those you wish hadn't been. Life is about all about 'impact'. The impact of one's actions, the impact on one's environment – people, places – whose lives did you touch today, how good/bad did you behave, did you kill, did you lie, did you simply play dead to go unnoticed? Etc, etc. Life is made of a collection of rooms and the people you find yourself with in them, at a certain period; thus life is all about time, people, places. The path you walk, the routes you take every day, the people you don't really know but walk over your footprints, and you on theirs, 24/7 – all important and defining attributes of Life. Which brings me to the fact that I'm walking back the route I took earlier this morning. I'll ask for a ride once I'm done with Mr. Priotti.

Something Beaumont said keeps repeating in my head "One surefire way to feel insecure is to be a slave to your emotions, acting on your moods and feelings without taking a time-out to think things through."

What she doesn't know is that all I've done is exactly that: think things through. I think I know the possible cause for the weird feeling I have… It's the lung. It's the fact that transplanted lungs typically last three to five years before showing signs of failure; about 25% of recipients manage to live 10 years, and my 'signs of failure' might have just started 2 years too soon. What I didn't tell her is that the thought of having a lung replacement every 3 years, sucks! But I should feel grateful for my financial situation…at least my chances of getting what I need are not conditioned by money availability.

I'm right by the guitarshop now. Beaumont was kind enough to let me borrow one of her spare shirts, I'm glad I'm not walking around all dirty and smelling coffee. Scratch that…the coffee aroma is still lingering cuz the dirty thing is in my purse. I'm going to see if it can be salvaged.

"Here I am, Mr. Priotti…" I waltzed, into the shop.

"Oh, oh, yes! Welcome back. Please, please sit down" I barely have time to breathe cuz he's pushing me down onto a stool. "Here, here, play it" and in a blink of an eye I have an acoustic guitar on my lap. "I had my son make it especially for you. With the best wood, imported from Italy. Play, play, please."

He had mentioned he'd give me a custom make guitar the first time I ventured into this shop. Apparently, I broke the one I had that day I got really drunk, so I thought it was time to buy a new one. While testing the models available, I played a couple of songs and I guess he just 'feel in love' with me…He asks me to play every time. So I start…

Fire spits from my eyes as gold reflects on silky skin.

Burning desire. Lust. Flaming coal.

You didn't just play with fire, you soaked the matches with gasoline.

No tears will be shed

Words will remain unspoken, and

The unwanted memories smoke aw--

I stop playing. "I'll be damned!" I spot a bike very similar to the one I saw earlier. It's parked on the other side of the street. I place the guitar on the counter.

"Something wrong?"

"Have you seen that bike before?" I point out.

"Yes. It's there, everyday. It's—"

"Mr. Priotti, I'll be back in a bit" I zoom in on the place. Ah, this guy's gonna hear and see hostile Ashley. Oh, and he's gonna hear me _really_ good!

**Monday, March 16th, 2009 10:43am**

"Okay, Spence, so let me get this straight... 1) you think the girl is rude, 2) you kinda don't like her, AND you still went through all that trouble?!" there's amusement in her voice.

"Well, it's not like she deserved a coffee shower...nor a broken cell phone" it's not anyone's fault that I'm clumsy.

"Considering you didn't do it on purpose, I call those events 'accidents' in the first place, but I get you...You're being old-Spencer…all sweet and considerate. I like that!"

"HEY! Watch it. No sweetie pie here."

"Your secret is safe with me, Carlin"

"Hey, do you think I should deliver this personally?" I asked Carmen.

"Yes, I do. You went through all the trouble of buying those, already...Why not? It'll just prove you to be a very considerate person."

Although I could have done better in the first place and apologized. I freaked out, okay! And it's not like she can't afford buying a new shirt...But I bought it anyways. Anything to shoo the guilty feeling away. Oh, I'm so corny heh.

"Can you take me to--" shit! I duck behind the counter.

"What?! What are you doing????"

"It's her. Shhhh. Don't look at me" I whisper.

"Hi" oh it's her, it's her...

"Hello. Welcome to _Nutriplace_" I know Carmen's flashing her trademark smile right now.

"Hey..." there's a long pause.

Carmen looks down at me, when I think Ashley's gaze is elsewhere, and mouths "She's hot" and faces forward again.

"Hm...is this your jacket?" crap, the leather jacket's on the counter.

"Yes it is."

"I can't believe YOU!" woah! See? The same kind of reaction I got when I _accidentally_ broke her phone. "YOU ruined my shirt!"

"Excuse me!?" Carmen's playing dumb.

"The hit-and-run this morning… Ring any bells?"

"Hm, n—" "You're wearing Adidas running shoes…" yep, black, so what? "Tell me that's not your bike parked outside"

"It is. Do you like it?"

"I do, but that's beyond the point... Why were you so rude earlier?? I was actually expecting a guy to act up like that, not some girl. Didn't your parents teach you good manners?!"

"Why do you care? You stalked me all the way out here for a stupid shirt..."

"Of course. This is worth more than you make in a week." $361.50 to be exact. I called Kyla and asked if she happened to notice what her sister was wearing this morning; gladly, she has a great eye and provided me the brand, model, and even told me where I could buy it.

"I don't know how much it's worth but you certainly don't know how much I make, either, so _p-lease_ lets not go there. I don't really know you…_yet_, but maybe we could get pass this and I could buy you dinner and make it up to you?" and there you have it... Carmen's being Carmen.

"WHAT??"

"You're so fine, girl! I wanna tap you!" she's kidding. It's common for her to use this tactic to lighten the mood. "Let me take you out" she's kidding, isn't she?

"I...I-mhm... I'm not gay." Nice one, I bet she's blushing.

"Hey, I don't know, I never asked, I don't care...AND who said I am!?"

"What-ever! Do you realize I'm mad at you??"

"Oh I'm not the one you should be mad at, hot stuff. For real, now. This might be my jacket, that's my bike, I'm wearing Adidas BUT I'm not your criminal. Now that the issue is out of the way, would you give me your phone number?"

"You are not taking me seriously. I am M-A-D at YOU!!"

Enough of this. This girl has to be soooo dramatic! "Oh for Christ's sake..." I get up from behind the counter "…gimme that shirt" she gets it out of her bag in record time, and hands it to me. "I'm sorry I bumped into you AGAIN. If it's not an inconvenience, please sit down and wait while I get this cleaned," should have said this way sooner "Carmen here will keep you company, feel free to order anything you'd like, on the house. And here you go," I hand her the plastic bag with a brand new cell phone and shirt "just in case you decide not to wait at all." I turn around and move to the one-way see through door connecting the shop and the gym. "Oh and, by the way, asking for a woman's number - even when you have no intention of calling her - is a socially acceptable way to end a conversation. It happens a lot. It's part of _her_ game. And for that, wohoo Go Carmen!" and away I walk.

75


End file.
